Alucinor
by Queen Lani Kaulitz the Hyper
Summary: Uther's reign is crumbling before his indifferent eyes. Those with magic will no longer tolerate persecution,and those without wont stand for injustice. The Ancients have awoken. Follow Merlin as he goes into the heart of rebellion.. and Uther's mind.
1. Prologue

*Prologue*

**Hello lovely readers! Thanks for giving my story a chance, and I hope you like it. :)  
Before anyone even asks, yes, I was inspired by the movie Inception when I came up with the idea for this story. This is NOT, however, a crossover. So for those of you who have seen it, there will be Inception like themes in it.**

**Disclaimer-I do not own BBC's Merlin or any of the characters, or any themes borrowed from Inception.**

It was early morning, and the sun was just beginning to feebly stretch its rays as it began its long, daily descent into the sky. All was still as the first, ambitious rays cleared the tops of the dense forest and shone their still pale light onto the proud white walls of the citadel on the hill. The drowsy forest creatures brought themselves from their assorted homes to great the new day and watch as the magnificent citadel was brought into full glory by the morning light, its grand towers and turrets housing the awakening townspeople. As the sun fully rose above the trees and climbed into its throne of clouds, the sound of a troop of horses thundering through the forest broke the calm of the peaceful morning.

The thundering of the horse's hooves drew the inhabitants of the village out of their homes, curious. They watched as the red-cloaked horsemen charged through the streets, heading purposefully toward the citadel. Not a one of them failed to notice the peculiar grouping of the troops; they rode in a circle with one of their fellows in the center, upon whose back the form of another person could be seen. With curious, and undoubtedly weary glances, the townsfolk started off in their wake.

The troop charged through the gates of the citadel, entering into the white stone town square. The clacking of their horses hooves echoed through the quiet morning air as they came to a halt, the leader of the troop drawing from his belt a horn which he promptly brought to his lips and trumpeted. At once, all the peasants from the town and citadel came rushing from outside, gathering around and watching in anticipation as more knights streamed out of the castle. They rushed forward and joined their fellows, who were dismounting from their steeds and handing them off to the servants who were also gathering. The only one who remained on horseback was the knight with the other figure on his back. Drawing their weapons, the others quickly snatched the figure off the horse, throwing it to the ground where it collapsed and lay quite still.

At that moment, a door on one of the upper levels of the castle was flung open. All eyes were upturned as none other than Uther Pendragon, king of Camelot, stormed on to the balcony, his steely gray eyes cast down upon the scene below him. Silence fell as two of the knights grabbed the cloaked figure and hauled it upwards, revealing the badly bruised face of an old man. As his face was revealed, those around him shrank back with hisses of shock; the man was Fendrel, a sorcerer who was notorious throughout the lands. Uther leaned over the ledge and sneered down at the old man, who in his beaten state looked as frail as to be blown over by the winds. Fendrel met the king's gaze with a small, private smile stretching his bruised and wrinkled face.

"Well, well, well." muttered Uther, his voice only just carrying down to those below him. He turned his attention to the knights surrounding the sorcerer, a sadistic smile twisting his features. "You have done well, men. You have lived up to the title of Knights of Camelot, and have honored your kingdom."

At the same moment he was addressing the knights, another figure joined him at the window. This second figure shared Uther's height and many of his facial features; it was said that he was a reflection of Uther's past, a past thirty years now gone. He also shared Uther's namesake, for he was Arthur Pendragon, crowned prince of Camelot.

However much he may look like his father in his early years, Arthur looked very little like Uther at that particular moment. Whereas Uther's features were twisted with a cold glee as he sneered down at the scene before him, Arthur's were pulled together in a barely assembled mask of indifference. His mouth was drawn taught, pale white as was the rest of his face. This provided stark contrast with the watery blue of his eyes, which were despite his best efforts shining with distaste. But he was not looking down at the captive sorcerer. He was looking instead at his father, at the vicious enjoyment so clearly evident on his face.

"People of Camelot," Uther was saying, his voice echoing across the silenced crowd. "We have before us, due to the marvelous and hasty work of our knights, the well known sorcerer, Fendrel. As you all know, Fendrel has been working to cast his spells on the commoners in outlying villages of Camelot and other kingdoms alike. Reports had reached us that he was working to take control of people's minds.. by entering their dreams."

Gasps of shock rippled through the crowd; they had heard of how the man had gone about countless small villages, gathering an army of followers and leading those who would not follow in an endless sleep. His goal, however, had been kept from them.

From where he stood amongst the knights, Fendrel let out a scathing laugh. Rasping and thunderous, it was a very unsettling laugh-the laugh of one who had seen and committed a great deal of evil in the world. The townsfolk closest to him shrank back, jostling those behind them to put distance between themselves and the sorcerer.

When his laughter died down enough for him to speak, he turned his gleaming gaze back up to the king. "I do not work to take control of people's minds.. only awaken the thoughts that are already there. And it would seem, Uther Pendragon, that you are on many people's minds these days."

Uther's face turned a bright red, and for a moment it seemed as if he was going to spring from the balcony and finish Fendrel off on his own. But the moment passed, and breathing heavily, he merely leaned forward against the railing.

"Would you like to know what I am thinking, sorcerer?" he hissed. "I am thinking it is high time your shenanigans were put to an end. Prepare a stake," he barked down to the knights, who jumped slightly at the sudden loud noise. "The sorcerer burns sundown."

With a sweep of his cape, Uther turned on his heel and made for the castle. But the voice of Fendrel, sounding much stronger than it had previously, stopped him in his tracks.

"Burn me if you wish, Uther Pendragon, but you will not stop me. You cannot stop the people from dreaming. And wherever there are dreamers, there we will be as well. I have seen the people's minds, and also their hearts. I know what they want, and we will give it to them. The dream will become the reality. And you are powerless to stop us."

Fendrel became very still. After a moment, the knights who held his arms screeched in pain and dropped his arms, flying back from him. Their hands bore angry welts and were smoking and hissing from where he had burned them. Drawing himself to his fullest height, Fendrel swept around and faced the commoners, who stood dumbstruck and watching in terror. When he spoke, his voice was amplified as if there were a hundred of him speaking at once.

"People of Camelot, those who live on the very threshold of Uther Pendragon's tyranny, listen to the words of Fendrel, of the Keepers of Magic! You have lived in an age ruled by fear and ignorance, dominated and lead by a man who does not tolerate that which he cannot understand! I have seen your brothers and sisters hearts and minds, and I know that Uther's golden age is bursting at the seams, crumbling apart as we speak! Do not tolerate this madness any longer. Choose to stand up and fight for freedom and equality, so that all can live in peace and harmony. Make your dreams a reality, least you be plagued by nightmares."

Guards made to recapture Fendrel, who stomped his foot hard on the ground. A shock wave rippled through the ground from where he stomped, hitting the men and knocking them unconscious. Cries of fear erupted from the remaining knights and a few townsfolk, but for his part, Fendrel carried on his speech quite unperturbed.

"This has only just begun, people of Camelot. As my people's reality is not safe, neither are your dreams. We have come close to extinction, and we will no longer tolerate it. As your king hunts us, so we will hunt him."

There was a moment of absolute silence as the weight of his words settled among the crowd. Then, just as suddenly as the first time, Fendrel stomped his foot again; his eyes glowed gold as a clap of thunder rang out, surely heard by all the lands. Another shockwave, this one gold like his eyes and thrice the size of the first one he had sent out, issued through the ground. The stone ground of the town square rippled like the water of the ocean waves as the shock waves rang through it. People were thrown down, screaming, as it displaced the ground underneath their very feet. The wave passed through the citadel, through the town, through Camelot itself, reaching to the very ends of the Earth.

Fendrel closed his eyes, listening as his call rippled across the Earth. It reached the very recesses of reality, echoing with booming insistency and sending golden light shooting into the darkness. The light shone brighter with every passing moment, swirling into five distinctly human shapes. Though they took no distinct form or features, Fendrel knew who they were. He watched as his fellow Ancients rose and, using the light which created them, the light that he had sent, brought into being a sixth figure. As it took form, the figure developed distinct features, which he recognized to be those of a girl. His successor, a fellow dreamer.

Fendrel's eyes snapped open and he awoke from the vision, and he was back in the citadel of Camelot. The tiniest of all smiles played at his lips as in that moment he lost all the strength that had previously flowed through him, collapsing back into the frail old man that he was. He fell roughly to the ground, and in a flash the knights were surrounding him, hauling him to his feet and dragging him away. He put up no struggle, for lack of strength and because his successor was on her way. No matter what the tyrant Uther did to him, he would not win. He could not win. Fendrel knew that his death was for the better, but a sacrifice for the greater good. As was the case with him and the Ancient who he had followed, so his successor would have greater powers than he. A surge of triumph ran through him as he was thrown into a damp jail cell, where he would spend the last day of his life. This truly only was the beginning.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

**Hey everyone! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the prologue. Reviews are appreciated! :)**


	2. Chapter 1

*Chapter 1*

**Quick AN-Thanks to Ayluy, Jordi, tkdprincess96, Revan Knight., rawr52 and all others who read and subscribed to my story in any way, shape or form. Here's the first official chapter... HUZZAH! :D**

**A note for future reference- this is set a short amount of time after the close of Season 3.**

Merlin let out a loud curse as the shockwave which the sorcerer had issued rippled the ground beneath his feet, knocking him to his knees. All around him, people were screeching and flailing about on the ground, trying to make sense of the chaos which was surely about to break out. Merlin clenched his fists and felt the first embers of fresh power flow into his veins, pumping with the beat of his sporadic heart. Should a fight break out, he was ready to go on the defensive.

But no utter chaos broke out. The sorcerer did nothing more than stand with his eyes closed, as if in a trance, before promptly collapsing as the strength fled him. He once again resembled the old, frail man which had been dragged in to Camelot. Had Merlin not just felt the shock wave and been witness to the strange events personally, he would have thought there was nothing particularly threatening or imposing about him.

Merlin watched as the knights of Camelot surged forward, seizing the man and dragging him off to the dungeons. He put up no struggle, and as he was lifted Merlin saw the ghost of a smile etched upon his features. A shiver ran down his spine.

The crowd, which had since dragged themselves to their feet, burst into raucous rounds of gossip, all screeching about what had just transpired. In a steady stream, they began pouring out of the square in groups and pairs, all replaying the events and recounting the ominous warning issued by Fendrel. Merlin did not move, but stood rooted to the spot with unease prickling his mind. He cast his gaze upon the balcony where Uther had issued Fendrel's death sentence, and saw not the king, but his son instead.

Merlin's best friend, and also worst nightmare, Arthur, also stood frozen where he had been to watch the events transpire, a cold, empty look captured upon his features. Merlin knew that look well; it was a look of depressed contemplation, which all too often lead to thoughtless and overly noble actions. Merlin disliked this look very much, for he was nearly always the butt of these plans. Suppressing a shudder, he took off at a fast pace for the castle, bracing himself for Arthur's plans and already trying to come up with a way out of them.

xxx

Merlin had nearly made it to Arthur's chambers when he was intercepted by Gaius, the court physician. Gaius was an older man, whose wisdom shown just as clearly as did his age upon his rather hangdog face. Though usually the old man's appearance filled him with warmth- for Gaius was the closest thing to a father which he had ever known- at that moment Merlin found it rather irksome.

"Merlin!" Gaius barked, stopping Merlin dead in his tracks. His long white hair was flying as he limped speedily down the hall, a look of grim determination on his face. It was the fastest Merlin had ever seen him move, and for a moment he stood frozen in surprise before the annoyance set in. Then Merlin fully comprehended the look on his face; much like the one Arthur bore always signaled thoughtless shenanigans, this particular look of Gaius' always signaled bad news.

"Gaius, I'm really busy-" Merlin began, desperate to get away from him. After the display in the courtyard, the last thing he needed was bad news.

"Not now, Merlin, this is urgent!" Gaius snapped, grabbing Merlin's arm and yanking him after him.

"But I really need to go see Arthur," Merlin protested weakly. Gaius offered no acknowledgement, only hobbled along at the same fast pace until they reached their quarters. He threw the door open, and before Merlin was even properly in the room threw it shut again. Ignoring Merlin's yelp of protest, he charged up the ladder to the loft where he kept his personal collection of books. He began searching the shelves like a madman on a mission.

"Gaius, what is going on?" Merlin cried, watching as the old man scrambled about. Without pausing in his searching, Gaius puffed a response.

"That man," he responded. "Surely you recognized that man?"

Merlin's brows crashed together in a puzzled frown. He had never seen that man before in his life. Gaius couldn't seriously think he knew him?

Merlin was prompt in relaying these thoughts to him. Gaius did not say anything back, merely searched for a few more minutes before giving a loud "Aha!" He turned and made for the ladder, shuffling down the steps at a rate that made Merlin nervous before hurrying over to his work bench. He placed a large, leather-bound book down on the worn surface, collapsing on to the seat and heaving tiredly. Merlin inched closer and peered down at the book, his annoyance forgotten and his interest caught. It was a book he had never seen, very old and written in a type of ruins which he did not recognize.

At the same time his eyes swept the ruins imprinted on the cover, a pleasant burning erupted at the base of his skull. In a moment, Merlin knew this book contained many ancient secrets of a world which now lived in hiding. It contained secrets of magic.

Though a thousand questions swarmed his brain, Merlin decided it would be best to let Gaius address the issue at his own pace. Impatiently, he waited for Gaius to catch his breath so as to explain himself. Still breathing rather heavily, he flipped the book open and leafed through the pages for a few moments before speaking.

"I would never have thought it in all my years.." he murmured, still searching for the page he needed. Then he froze, his mouth gapping slightly, as he gazed down at a page bearing an image of six golden figures hovering in a swirling cloud of darkness. Multicolored ruins drifted lazily around their heads, and beams of light extended from their upturned palms. Though their features were left indiscernible, two glowing silver eyes were drawn in each of their faces. Merlin found himself strangely attracted to the figures, though at the same time a little intimidated by them. He wished he could decipher the ruins floating around them.

"Who are they?" he asked of Gaius, who had finally regained his breath.

Gaius replied without looking up from the page, his pale blue eyes digesting the ruins which were so stubbornly undecipherable to Merlin. "These here are the six original Keepers of Magic. Surely you've heard of them?"

The name felt as if it should be familiar, but for the life of him Merlin could not recall who the Keepers of Magic were. He responded with irritation evident in his voice. "My mother knew little of magic, and anyways she raised me in fear of my powers. She told me nothing other than what was necessary for me to know. I've never heard of these people in my life."

Gaius let out a sigh. "Yes, that would be true.." he finally looked up from the book and addressed Merlin directly. "The Keepers of Magic are a clan of sorcerers who were first established around the time Magic was tamed by humans. They are a very, very powerful group of people who know the secrets of magic even better than the priests and priestesses of the Old Religion. Some even go so far as to think that the Keepers themselves are the founders of the Old Religion."

Merlin's brain was pumping with the same intensity as his heart. Could this possibly be true? "Surely that's just a myth? How could people harness magic and make it useable?"

"Well, that's just it, Merlin. The original Keepers of Magic weren't themselves people.. They were born from the chaos in which the world resided prior to their birth. They, like so many other ancients which are now extinct, _are_ magic."

Despite the insanity of the whole story, despite the absolute improbability of it all, Merlin could see the truth. He knew, in his own heart of magic, that these were more than legends. His mind reeling from the greatness of what he was learning, he grasped on to the one small concept which he could possibly question. "You keep saying 'original'... like there's been more after them..?"

Gaius turned the page with a flick of his wrist, his interest back in the book. "This is where the legend falls into uncertainty. According to legends surrounding the story, before the original Keepers died, they chose successors to take their place, and to continue to keep the world from again falling in to chaos. And so the second generation of Keepers ruled, when came their time to choose new successors, and so on and so forth."

"So according to what you're saying, there are successors to these Keepers of Magic romping around right now, as we speak?" Merlin asked, daunted by the idea.

"Precisely. And when their time comes, they will choose their successors, and the cycle will continue."

"Right. And how, exactly, does this pertain to Fendrel?"

Gaius looked up again at Merlin, his pale blue eyes sparkling with keen knowing and a hint of weariness. Understanding jolted through Merlin, so that he knew what Gaius would say even before he spoke.

"It pertains to Fendrel, Merlin, because Fendrel is one of these successors. He is our generation's Keeper."

"That's impossible. He can't be! If the Keepers of Magic are so strong, and he is one, than wouldn't he just be able to break himself out of prison? There would be no way he would let Uther burn him!" Merlin cried, outraged that Gaius would suggest it. People with magic that strong would not just sit idly and let themselves be murdered so brutally!

But a small whisper in the back of his mind recalled to him the shock waves issued, the sheer power displayed by Fendrel in that one moment. Looking down at the picture in the book, the gold constructing the original Keepers burned, even in drawing form, with the exact same intensity as that which made up Fendrel's magic.

Not for the first time in his life did Gaius seem to read Merlin's mind. "Use your head, Merlin-I know despite popular belief that it is full of something besides hot air. That shock wave he issued was magic of a strength which I have never seen in my life. Yet it did not hurt any of us, nor did it help Fendrel to escape. He knew at that point what his fate was...that he was going to die."

"You think he was calling his successor?" Merlin asked.

"Indeed." Gaius responded, looking pleased that Merlin was following. "Now the only problem is knowing when he or she will get here... and also just how bent on fulfilling Fendrel's works he or she will be."

"Will we be able to tell?" Merlin asked, dread sitting heavily on his stomach. Gaius had stood and was now shuffling over to his bunk, where he hid the book under his pillow; clearly he was not done deciphering its messages.

"Who the successor is? Not likely. They will be as commonplace as Fendrel was-it will be their actions which will betray them to us." He responded as he made his way over to his shelf of medicines and fingered around for this herb or that. Having found what he needed, he grabbed his knapsack and made his way to the door, apparently off to make his rounds.

"So it could be anyone?" Merlin asked, still not satisfied.

Gaius stopped with his hand on the door, turning back to Merlin with a beseeching expression. "No, not anyone. This new Keeper of Magic will be possessed of great powers.. powers which none of us have not ever seen before."

He kept his gaze on Merlin for just a few moments longer than necessary, before turning in a flurry of robes and limping out, leaving Merlin standing in a cloudy haze of half truths.

xxx

"There you are, Merlin!"

The arrogant voice, which Merlin had just hours before been so eager to hear, rang through his head with the same gratingly annoying effect as a knife scraping against a plate. Merlin barely managed to plaster a fake smile on his face before feeling a none too gentle hand clasp his shoulder and turn him abruptly around. He found himself looking in to the peevishly cocky face of Arthur Pendragon, Merlin's best friend, worst enemy, and employer. Judging by the pair of muddy boots in his bejeweled hand, Arthur was there on the business of the latter title.

"I was beginning to think you were skipping out on me." he said, raising his eyebrows in synchronization with the boots, which he proceeded to waggle in Merlin's face.

"I was..busy." Merlin replied lamely, his eyes trained on the boots with a distinct shade of distaste evident in them. How Merlin had ever gotten wrangled into the position of manservant, he would never understand.

"Too busy for some fun, old fashioned manual labor?" Arthur replied, sarcastic enthusiasm dripping in his tone. He shoved the boots in to Merlin's chest and turned to swagger away.

"If only," Merlin muttered, glaring down at the dirty, smelly boots.

Arthur appeared not to have heard him. "Oh, and Merlin?" he called languidly over his shoulder. "I'll need to see you in my chambers immediately after you finish the boots. There's something we need to discuss."

Merlin barely stopped himself from groaning as he turned away with a muffled "Yes, Sir." He had nearly forgotten the contemplative look on Arthur's face at the scene of Fendrel's arrest. He turned and hurried back to Gaius' chambers, kicking the door shut behind him with his foot and continuing up the miniscule flight of stairs that led to his own room. Merlin glanced around at the messy state his room was currently in and shrugged to himself, before setting the boots on the ground. He let the warmth build in the back of his mind before muttering the short, simple incantation to himself, and after the flash of gold had cleared from his eyes he saw the objects in his room flying back to their proper place, and Arthur's boots scrubbing themselves clean. Barely a second passed before both the boots and his room were spotless, and Merlin smirked to himself. Manual labor his backside.

xxx

Half past the hour found Merlin knocking upon the huge wooden door that lead to Arthur's chambers. It had only taken him half past a minute to complete the task assigned to him, but had he done the task the way he was expected to it would have taken him that long at the earliest. Besides, he needed a few extra minutes to rest his eyes and fight of the oncoming headache that was building in his temple, though Arthur needn't necessarily know that.

A moment after he knocked, the door crept open, and Arthur's blue eye peered at him from the small space allowed. Merlin raised his eyebrows skeptically as Arthur, upon recognizing him, opened the door only wide enough for him to step through.

"Thank God it's only you," Arthur sighed. Merlin watched as he walked over to the wardrobe which stood in the corner and threw the door open, eliciting a small squeal from within. "It's alright, Gwen, it's only Merlin."

Merlin watched, flabbergasted, as the form of a very familiar girl toppled out of the wardrobe. Dark skinned and dark haired, she was very pretty even when her features were captivated in an expression of horrified alarm. As she caught her footing, she turned her wide eyed gaze up to Merlin and gave a small, weak laugh.

"Oh, Merlin!" she squeaked. "You had me so worried! I thought we were caught for sure."

Arthur and Guinevere, despite their steadfast love for one another, were forbidden from seeing each other; Gwen, a serving girl trice accused for consulting with magic, did not have the best potential for a bride of the prince. Nevertheless, the two were so deeply captivated with each other that nothing Uther said or did could ever truly keep them apart-merely kept them from being public. Though lately, things were starting to take a turn for the better.

"Just me," Merlin replied, not able to be angry with Gwen. "Although I am curious as to what your explanation should I have been someone to worry about."

"Come on, Merlin," Arthur snapped, seeing the flash of dismay on Gwen's face. "You know my father's hardly got the strength to be fretting over me anymore."

It was true; ever since the rebellion of Morgana, Uther's illegitimate daughter, and her half sister, the dangerous and ambitious sorceress Morgause, the king had not been in his right mind. Though these past few weeks he had recovered a great amount of composure, he was merely a shadow of the ruler he used to be, only appearing in public for serious reasons. The ongoing love affairs of his son would hardly be of concern to the king at so crucial a time.

"Well, regardless, I don't think spontaneous trysts in the middle of the afternoon are the smartest route to go." Merlin said sternly, aiming the comment at Arthur more so than Gwen. Though he knew they meant no harm, he worried for them. There had been so many close calls when it came to their wayward relationship, each one more catastrophic than the other-a recent ordeal had nearly gotten Merlin himself killed in Gwen's place.

"This isn't what it looks like," Gwen piped up defensively. "Arthur needed to talk to me about something."

"Yes, Merlin, believe it or not we do actually do more than snog when we're together. I was asking Gwen what I planned on asking you, although if you don't stop running your mouth I may just have to hang your advice and through you out a window." Arthur hissed through clenched teeth.

"Sorry," Merlin muttered, putting his hands up as in defeat.

"Good," Arthur said, sounding very much the pompous prat that he usually was. "Now then. I wanted to ask you what you would think of riding out to all the outlying villages for a surprise check-in."

Many protesting thoughts sprang in to Merlin's mind at the suggestion, the first of which having something to do with the poor accommodations which were generally associated with riding in the woods. Already knowing the grief he would get from Arthur should he voice that thought, however, he settled for one of the more noble reasons to use later. "Why?"

"Well you heard what Fendrel said about leading an uprising of the peasants through using their own thoughts. I want to ride out for my own and see if it's true." Arthur replied, looking troubled.

Merlin glanced over to Gwen, who was worrying at her bottom lip. His gaze cut back to Arthur as the prince was again speaking. "I myself have heard nothing of towns leading rebellions, but then again I am the prince, and I would imagine that the sorcerer would keep news of the rebellion from me as long as possible."

"That's what he asked me about," said Gwen quietly. "He wanted to know if I've heard news of any such uprisings. Which I have, but nothing such as what Fendrel predicted. I've only heard of clan-like groups being formed in the villages on the edge of Camelot's territories, though their purpose has not yet been made clear."

"Which is why I've made up my mind to ride out and see what's happening. I figured I would invite you to see if there was anything you would like to say to try and talk me out of it?"

Though Arthur spoke jokingly, Merlin was dead serious in his reply. "Who will defend Camelot? You know your father is in no fit state to rule, and after all this that's just happened the people aren't exactly at their strongest moment. Why does it have to be you that goes?"

Arthur looked angry and affronted, but Merlin could tell that he had made his point. He was surprised when Gwen came to his side and looked up at Arthur with imploring brown eyes. "He's right, Arthur, I don't think it's that good of an idea anyways. It sounds like a ploy to get to Uther, and who knows what will happen should you go? You could be playing right into their hands."

Arthur glared between the two of them. He looked as if he were about to argue, but the tolling of a bell cut him off before he spoke. Each of them glanced anxiously toward the window, noticing for the first time that it was sundown.

"It's time." Arthur said gravely, leading the way out of his chambers.

xxxx

Merlin met Gaius in the castle entryway, where the physician stood firmly rooted before a window. His expression was solemn as he beheld the large pit that had been prepared in the middle of the town square, where knights stood stationed to ensure no escape was to be made. _As if that would stop him,_ thought Merlin darkly, watching as a path cleared in the crowd and the slight frame of Fendrel appeared dragged between two more knights. Fendrel walked not unwillingly, and smiled as he looked up at the stake which he was to be burned on. There was an eerie calm, very nearly a peace, visible in his features as he was lead up the stairs and tied to the stake.

The voice of Uther Pendragon spoke from somewhere overhead. "People of Camelot, I give you Fendrel.. the Dreamer. He is here, before you to be burned today for multiple and grievous acts of sorcery and for heading a rebellion against the crown. Do you deny these things, Fendrel?"

The old man merely smiled wider.

"He has as good as confessed. Fendrel, your time is up. May God have mercy on your soul."

Knights with torches sprang forward, throwing their flames into the pits. As the fire trickled upward into the sky, spreading its flames as a hawk spreads its wings when taking off, Fendrel tipped back his head and laughed, and though he spoke in a whisper, his voice reverberated clearly through the heads of all those present.

"Ah, Death, my sweet.. how good it is to finally meet you.."

Merlin turned away from the horrifying scene, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. A shiver passed through his body as he whispered to Gaius, "How is he so damn happy about being burned alive?"

"He knows his successor is on its way, and he or she will have twice as much power as Fendrel ever dreamed of." Gaius replied.

"What?" Merlin shouted, then winced at the loudness of his own voice.

Gaius shrugged. "'Tis the way of the Keepers. Each successor is more powerful than the one before, to ensure that when they die their own protégé will come to being, and also to keep the entire world's history of magic alive. It's a necessary precaution."

"A necessary precaution?" Merlin yelped, staring frantically at Gaius' retreating form. When the old man did not reply, he muttered darkly to himself, "I need a nap."

xxxx

Merlin's dreams that night were frantic and distressful. Unbeknownst to him, as he slept he quite frequently released jolts of magic energy from his hands, sending various objects flying in to the air and nearly setting his mattress on fire. However, no matter how hard he tried and how much he wanted to, Merlin simply could not wake up.

Then, all at once, his dream calmed into a dark oblivion. He quit fidgeting and became utterly still as his mind was transported to a mountainous region quite far away from Camelot.

_"Merlin."_

_He knew that voice; he looked this way and that, casting his gaze around the darkness to find the source of the voice. For a moment he saw nothing but darkness; then, all at once he was there, towering over him and fixing him with his stern golden glare._

_"Dragon." Merlin whispered. his tone hushed._

_"Merlin," the Great Dragon, an ancient beast who was also the last of its kind, murmured in his deep, rumbling voice. "I have come to warn you, young warlock. The Keeper of Magic who was burned at Uther Pendragon's hand lives on yet, in the form of his successor. His death is not the end of his work, but the beginning. His successor makes for Camelot as we speak, bringing a new age. You must be weary, Merlin. Pick your side wisely-the Keepers of Magic are not to be trifled with."_

_A thousand questions raced through his mind, but as he stood there trying to figure out which to ask, the image of the dragon began to thin out as fog does when hit with light. "Wait!" he cried, and the dragon's image shimmered to a halt. "Aren't you going to tell me how to beat them?"_

_The dragon peered curiously down at him. "The Keeper's of Magic are not to be beaten, warlock. Merely resisted, or joined. Dream well."_

Merlin awoke with a start, the words of the dragon still ringing in his head.


	3. Chapter 2

-Chapter 2-

**MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! :D Although it is a little late, I started this chapter on Christmas Eve..And if you're not a Christmas person, then happy whatever holiday you celebrate :) I hope you all got all the goodies you want, and sugarplums danced in your head and all that jazz. **

**Anywho, thanks as always to everyone reading, but namely to Ayluy, Cwam and Revan Knight for being awesome enough to review. :)**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

After his prophetic vision from the Great Dragon, Merlin found that sleep was impossible to re-obtain. Will it though he might, the thick blanket of sleep simply would not wrap him in its embrace. His agitated mind had nothing to do other than wander back to the ominous warning delivered to him through the dragon, and though he really would rather not think of it he kept reimaging his meeting with the dragon. The last thing the dragon had said kept replaying in his mind with a blaring insistency-_dream well. _Clearly this was connected to Fendrel and the newest Keeper, the two who were manipulating people's dreams. Merlin felt his scalp prickle, imaging that an unseen sorcerer was intruding on his private thoughts even as he lay awake.

Merlin lay chewing over the events of the past day into the early hours of the morning, watching the sun rise over the citadel through his window. He had no idea how long he lay there simply thinking before he heard a frantic pounding on the door leading into Gaius' chambers. Barely stopping himself from yelling in surprise, he pushed himself onto his elbows and cocked an ear to listen as Gaius clambered from his bed, rushing to greet the visitor. Merlin heard a muffled male voice speaking urgently to Gaius, then Gaius' surprisingly calm response, and then the sound of the door closing. He hauled himself from his bed and down to Gaius' room to be greeted by the old physician himself, his fist raised in mid knock on Merlin's door.

"What's happening?" Merlin asked, slightly breathless. Gaius' expression was dark, and in the early hours of the morning he looked twice his age.

"The king is having one of his fits." he replied. He turned and shuffled back down into his room, and thus missed the eye roll which Merlin was not able to contain.

Ever since Morgana had revealed her true intentions of wanting to take the throne of Camelot for herself, Uther's mind had been fractured and unstable. Though recently he had started showing signs of improvement, such as making efforts to go out in the public, he was still subject to frequent fits. When under the fits, he would fall into a state of semi consciousness in which his body spasm and his eyes would roll in his head. He would froth from the mouth and utter incoherently, though often during the climax of these fits one could make out what he was saying; most found that understanding him was worse than not being able to do so.

Merlin did not feel remorse for Uther when he was under one of these fits. Quite the opposite; when looking upon the king's writhing form, he found himself overcome with a violent sense of disgust. Often, when Uther started howling about his precious Morgana's betrayal, Merlin quite literally felt bile rise into his throat. As dark as it was, he found that Morgana's betrayal was the exact punishment that Uther deserved for all the lives he had taken in his pursuit to eradicate magic. The fact that he could kill countless innocent people because they tried to do good with magic, yet show such unconditional love for this one sorceress who was truly evil-daughter or not-had only further damned Uther Pendragon in Merlin's mind.

Merlin watch with heavily furrowed brows as Gaius scuttled around his chambers, collecting the necessary supplies to calm the king's seizures. Gaius caught sight of him and heaved a sigh, turning a reprimanding scowl in his direction.

"You can glower all you want, but that isn't going to make him better any faster."

"Well, what if I don't care if he gets better?" Merlin grumbled back, crossing his arms defiantly.

"Merlin, you and I both know that's not true. You may be angry with him, but you're too good a person to truly want him to suffer as he is. I can understand why you dislike Uther, but he is still-due largely to your own actions, need I remind you-your king. All we have to do is calm him down, then he'll be bedridden for a good few days. Now come along." Gaius said, the tone of condescendence gone from his voice. Merlin stood from a moment longer before loping over to join him.

Merlin felt slightly abashed as he searched the shelves in search of a particular bottle. Gaius was right; angry though he was, he was the one who had repeatedly risked his own neck to make sure that Uther stayed alive until this point. He had no one to blame for the frustrating existence of Uther Pendragon except for himself...well, and Uther's parents, of course.

"Gaius, where are the poppy seeds?" he asked, after his fifth sweep of the shelf.

"Did you check the fourth shelf from the top?" Gaius asked, distracted by the mixture he was concocting.

Merlin froze mid-grope, his hand hovering over the very shelf of conversation and an expression of disbelief on his face. "Seriously?"

Gaius glanced up and saw that Merlin was indeed in the very act of checking said shelf. He shook his head, a smile stretching the wrinkles of his face. "Sorry, my boy, it's very early in the morning... Well, if they aren't on that shelf then we must be out." Gaius frowned as the realization of his words seemed to register with him. "Well that's problematic. Go out and get some, will you? The ingredients of this mixture should be enough to calm the spasms, though the poppy seeds are what really helps him."

"Right. I'll just meet you in his chambers." Merlin called over his shoulder, running up to his room to grab his neck scarf and brown jacket. He slung the jacket over his shoulders as he ran, taking the stairs two at a time on his way to the town square.

Unfortunately, his journey to the town square took him right past Arthur's chambers; what was more unfortunate was that Arthur was exiting them just as Merlin passed. Merlin tried to avoid eye contact and raced on past, but Arthur was never one to be ignored.

"Merlin!" he barked at his retreating form. Merlin turned a circle and stood jogging in place, anxious to be getting on and truly not in the mood for Arthur and his shenanigans.

"Good morning, sunshine," Merlin said with large grin plastered on his face. Arthur gave him a rather strange look and started down the hall after him.

"Merlin, each and every day I think to myself that you could not possibly get any stranger, and yet.. here you are," he said, his upper lip drawn back in a half sneer, half frown. Quickly, he shook his head, and a sense of urgency returned to his expression. "Never mind you and your oddities now, we have plenty of time to discuss that later... Have you seen my father yet?"

Merlin glanced over his shoulder longingly at the stairs, down which the marketplace and people who were not Arthur were waiting for him. "No, we just found out that he's having a fit-"

"Well why aren't you down there treating him?" Arthur cut him off with an angry shout, his eyes blazing. Though Merlin knew he was only worried for his father, he could not help but bristle at Arthur's stupidity.

"What part of 'We just found out' did you not understand? Gaius is on his way with the medicine now, I'm-"

Arthur cut him off again. "Well what are you doing, Merlin, prancing about the castle as if you've nothing better to do? His chambers are the opposite way you're going!"

"I'm going to go get poppy seeds-a crucial part of the medicine which we are currently out of, which you would have known had you not constantly been cutting me off! And had you not gotten your princely underpants in a wad and decided to hold me up with a game of Let's Harass Merlin, I could be halfway to the shop by now and all that much closer to treating your father! But no, it's always 'Merlin, what are you doing? Merlin, what are you screwing up now? Merlin, why do you not do anything right even though you actually are doing things right and I'm the one that's messing everything up?' " Merlin ranted in an imitation of Arthur's voice which sounded nothing like Arthur.

Arthur stood gnashing his teeth together, a smile which was not at all sane stretching his face. Merlin instantly knew he had overstepped a line.

"Merlin?"

"Yeah?"

"_Shut up_!" He punctuated his command by aiming a punch at Merlin's arm, which he swiftly dodged. Merlin turned on his heel and galloped down the stairs, smirking as he heard Arthur roaring his name from the stairwell. He kept up his pace until he reached the front of the castle, but at the last moment he turned and made for the stables. He did not want to have to walk past the remains of Fendrel's stake if he could avoid it.

The sadistic part of his mind wandered to the convenience of Uther's fit, for there was hardly a soul to be found in the market at that early hour. He made for the familiar stall where he and Gaius bought their supplies, and after a quick exchange of money for supplies and a short conversation with the shopkeeper, he had four bottles of poppy seeds. As he turned to leave, he found himself facing a gathering crowd, which was slowing meandering through the streets and browsing the shops. He let out a small huff of aggravation with humanity and rather rudely shoved himself into the crowd, making his way for the castle.

Unfortunately, Merlin was rather scatterbrained, and in the course of his shopping had forgotten his mission to avoid the town square. So it was to a rather jolting sense of shock that he found himself looking up upon the charred remains of Fendrel's stake. Knights were bustling about with wagons, only just getting around to removing the abomination from the citadel. Merlin felt bile rise in his throat as memories of the old man and his warning flitted through his head.

"Shame, that," said a quiet voice from his side, causing him to jump slightly. He had become lost in his thoughts as he stared upon the stake, and was unaware that another person had joined him. He glanced down to see a young woman standing at his side, her eyes trained on the stake. She had dark brown hair that fell to her mid back and was decorated with braids here and there. She was dressed in a very simple brown dress accessorized with nothing more than a gaudy blue necklace. Her eyes, which she then turned up to Merlin, were a pale grey, that seemed to pierce into his very soul. He was hit with a tidal wave of unease as their eyes met, the likes of which he had never felt before.

"Just one of the many Uther's killed for his cause," Merlin said darkly, looking back to the stake as the feeling of unease only grew as she continued to stand there. From the corner of his eye, he could see that she was still watching him.

"Perhaps he was one of the first given for his own cause?" she suggested, drawing Merlin's attention back to her. He was sure he had never seen her before this point; he would have remembered being in the presence of a person so unnerving.

"Have you been to Camelot before?" he asked point blank.

"I've only just arrived." she responded with a small smile, causing the hair on the back of Merlin's scalp to stand on end as he once again turned back to the stake. She had nearly parroted exactly what Fendrel had upon his arrest, and yet she was brand new to the city. Merlin's sense of distrust was only deepening with each passing moment, yet so also was his curiosity. Who was this girl?

He turned back down to ask her, only to find that she was gone. Alarm spread through him and he glanced frantically around the square, looking for a flash of brown hair or dress, but it was as if she had sunk in to the ground. A cold sweat spread over his forehead as he started again for the castle, and from somewhere deep in his subconscious an answer to his own unasked question had formed.

xxx

Merlin made for Uther's chambers as fast as he possibly could, although delivering medicine to the ailing king was hardly on his mind at that time. He could hear Uther's shouts even from across the hall, and picked up his pace to a sprint to get there on time. He entered the chamber to the sight of a group of men gathered around the king's large double bed, where he lay feebly twitching. As Merlin drew closer, those gathered drew back and looked up at him, and he had a clear view of Uther's sweaty, spittle-covered face.

"What took you so long?" Arthur snapped from where he sat by Uther's head, looking nearly as pale and sweaty as the king himself. Merlin shot him an apologetic look as he handed one of the bottles to Gaius, who glowered at him only momentarily before turning to tend to Uther.

"Morgana..please..no..." Uther barked loudly, causing everyone in the room to wince. Merlin shot Arthur a furtive look and found the prince to be avoiding his gaze. An uncomfortable silence filled the room, filled only by Uther's ever quieting gasps and moans. Merlin inched closer to Gaius and tugged on his sleeve.

"Gaius," he whispered in the physician's ear as he dropped a second poppy seed in Uther's gaping mouth. He was ignored, and proceeded to tug all the harder. "Gaius."

Gaius paused in his workings only to let out a long exhale which hissed through his nose. "Merlin. Clearly I am in the middle of something very important right now."

"I know, Gaius, but what I have to say is important too."

"More important than the king's life?"

Merlin felt Arthur's furious glare burning his scalp and decided it would be best not to voice his true opinions. "Yeah, it can wait."

xxx

Uther calmed down nearly immediately after receiving his medicine. Gradually, as the king's spasms turned into weak jerks of the arms and head, the chamber emptied out until only Gaius, Merlin, and Arthur remained. The latter sat staring with a blank expression upon the pale and clammy face of his father, while the former two stood awkwardly off to the side.

Merlin gradually began inching backwards out of the room, always hating the times after Uther's fits. They unsettled Arthur almost as much as they unhinged Uther, and Merlin was never sure how many more times Arthur could watch his father scream and writhe before he, too, lost his sanity.

Gaius let out a small cough as he, too, began inching out of the room. Merlin stood in the doorway and watched as Arthur turned his face toward the direction of the physician, though his eyes remained on Uther.

"If all is well, we'll be leaving to attend our other duties, Sire," said Gaius in a low voice. "If he starts to act up again just send for us."

Arthur nodded, and the two physicians fully turned and left the room. As he passed through the doorframe into the hallway, Merlin felt as if the weight of the entire world were being taken from his shoulders.

"Of all the ailments I've treated, I have to say that is one of the most tedious," Gaius muttered, limping back toward his chambers. Merlin let out a snort of agreement and the two walked in a short silence before Gaius spoke again. "You will have gotten more than one bottle of poppies, I'm assuming?"

"Believe it or not, I have," Merlin grumbled back, feeling irritated at the look of surprise Gaius shot him.

"Well, well, well, Merlin, you've proved yourself a valuable apprentice after all!" he exclaimed with a teasing smile. Merlin could not help but smile back, and the two were still chuckling as they entered into their chambers.

"Now, what is this urgent news you insisted on risking the king's life to tell me?" Gaius asked as he went to put the poppy seeds back on the shelf.

Merlin busied himself by tying his scarf around his neck, and didn't look up at Gaius as he spoke. "I think I may have just met the next Keeper of Magic."

Gaius gave a choking gasp and whirled on the spot, fixing Merlin with a wide-eyed star. "What?"

Merlin shrugged nonchalantly. "I was in the market and I just kind of ran in to her. Well, rather, she ran in to me."

"And what makes you think she was the Keeper?"

Merlin thought back to the conversation with the young woman, of her unsettling grey eyes and the powerful aura that she had emanated. "Just standing next to her gave me this impression..this feeling..I can't even really describe it. It was the same thing I felt around Fendrel though, and when we were reading of the Keepers."

"Well, did you get her name?" Gaius demanded, looking pale.

Merlin swallowed thickly and recounted to Gaius the entirety of the conversation, of how when he tried to inquire of the girls information she had seemingly vanished in to thin air. When he finished speaking, Gaius' cheek was twitching with the work of his muscle beneath it. He stood silent for a few thoughtful moments before he spoke again.

"You do remember well what this girl looked like?" He asked. Merlin nodded as the face of the girl flashed in his mind's eye, and he knew with unsettling certainty that even if he never saw her again, he would never forget what she looked like. Gaius nodded also, looking pleased despite his obvious unsettlement. "Then you will need to keep a very careful eye out for her. Find out who she is and watch her. We need to monitor her and make sure we know when she acts."

Merlin murmured his acquiescence, feeling dread settle heavily in his stomach. Although he had partially known it would come to this, he had been hoping that a future confrontation with the girl could be avoided. He could not get past the unnerving way she had looked at him, and the unsettling feeling her presence had given him. He had been around a lot of ancient sorcerers and creatures of magic in his few years in Camelot, and was well acquainted to the prickling feelings sometimes inspired by foreboding figures with power, but he had never felt something quite as indescribably unpleasant as what he'd felt that morning.

"I suspect I'll be needing to keep a closer watch on Arthur?" Merlin proposed. This was what was usually expected of him whenever a sorcerer came in to town, because apparently all the most powerful witches and wizards of the world had no greater ambitions than to repeatedly harass Arthur Pendragon.

Gaius hesitated, letting out a gusty sigh. "Yes, I suppose so. But do not make it your number one priority. I think... I think at this point it's the girl we need to worry about watching."

"Meaning?"

"You're very good with dealing with other sorcerers, Merlin. I think it would be best if you tried to get to know her to figure out her ambitions, and if she's aiming for something grand then try and talk some sense in to her. Regardless of what we do, there will be a revolution, but I think that with your help we can try and make it as neat and painless as possible."

Merlin nodded slowly, and although he felt a strong sense of foreboding at the thought of having to converse with that girl, he knew what Gaius said was the truth. Then the first hint of realization, like the first and weakest of the suns morning rays, shone in Merlin's mind, and a small smile trickled across his face. "Maybe this is the beginning of the big destiny I'm supposed to be involved in?"

Gaius shrugged, though the tugging at the corner of his mouth showed that he had been thinking along the same lines. "Perhaps."

Both were still fighting their smiles as Gaius turned and left the chambers, shuffling out to greet the new day and tend to the long list of ailing patients.

xxx

Days turned to weeks as Merlin spied around for the Keeper of Magic. But apparently in addition to being all-powerful, they were all-elusive, for he never caught so much as a glimpse of her. He asked, casually at first though with increasing urgency as the days stretched on, around town for any news of a new girl with brown hair and a brown dress, but no one ever knew who it was he spoke of. Frustrated, he had to lessen his studies of magic and all together gave up on helping Gaius treat patients. Yet still, no amount of skulking around town brought him sight of the girl.

His duties to Arthur did nothing to help the matter. During the middle of the day, when the market was most active and when the girl was most likely to be out and about, he was stuck in the castle scrubbing at Arthur's grungy undergarments, muttering angry curses all the while. For his part, Arthur found the whole display exhausting and only added it to his list of complaints of the life of a prince.

"What is this, Merlin? You call this clean? How would you like it if I cleaned your clothes and still left stains on your favorite pair of undergarments?"

"I'd prefer you cleaning them incompetently than me having to do it," muttered Merlin in response. "Maybe then I could be the one complaining for a change."

He then let out a piercing yelp as the undergarments of conversation were hurled at his face.

Conversations like this became more and more frequent until one day, that tiny part of Arthur which was possessed of caring qualities reared its uncharacteristic head. The prince happened to walk in the room just as Merlin was struggling to reapply the newly washed bed sheets; a task which normally was easy but today was proving quite challenging. Arthur watched with raised eyebrows as Merlin, distracted by his frequent glances out the window, somehow managed to tangle himself in to the sheets and toppled over with a loud thud, his long limbs flailing.

Arthur snickered as Merlin grumbled and cursed, his battle with the sheets quickly escalating into a full on war in favor of the latter opponent. After a moment, however, Merlin let out a long, drawn-out sigh and stopped struggling, merely consenting to lay on the ground still entangled in the victorious blankets, defeated. Arthur's humor, much to his own surprise, quickly turned to concern.

"Something bothering you, Merlin?" he asked, swaggering over to kneel next to Merlin. The black haired manservant glared up at him, looking both startled and defensive.

"Other than the fact that I just got my ass kicked by a couple of blankets and am about to be teased by the most pompous blockhead I've ever had the misfortune of knowing? Nope, everything's peachy."

Arthur lashed out a fist and smacked Merlin across the head, a crooked smile plastered on his face. "There were a lot of big words in that sentence, that's always a sign that there's something up, now why don't you disentangle yourself from my bed sheets and tell me what's going on?"

Merlin sat up and began to unravel himself, frowning. Still looking at the blankets, he spoke without meeting Arthur's eye. "You wouldn't understand."

Arthur rolled his eyes and huffed, seeing that his friend was in one of the mysterious moods which irked him so. "I've known you for how long now? You know about nearly all of my problems, and yet I know none of yours. I do, however, know enough about you to know that whatever it is, it is nothing as grand and mysterious as you so clearly think. I don't see why everything has to be a secret with you."

Though he had been joking, the furious glint in Merlin's eye when he turned his gaze upon him told him that he had crossed some unwritten line. "You don't know me half as well as you like to think you do. I can't tell you because you not only wouldn't understand, but you'd probably kill me if you found out. And I would appreciate it if you would stop making me sound like I think I'm this big grand hero, because I don't at all!"

Arthur felt abashed, and the look on Merlin's face told him that he had misjudged his friend's issues. Clearly, there was something much deeper and more affecting going on in his life. However, Arthur was never one to deal with emotions head on, so he continued to take the more hardy approach. "Calm down, Merlin, you sound like a woman. Now if you're really that stressed out, then...if you want to...you can take the rest of the week off..."

Merlin's glare turned in to an expression of dumbfounded shock, his mouth turning in to a perfect little 'o'. Arthur instantly regretted his moment of kindness and wanted to swipe the look right off Merlin's face.

"Are you sure you're not the one who's feeling off?" Merlin asked, clearly not knowing what else to say; the two rarely ever had such heart-to-heart moments, and times when they did such outright kindnesses for each other very nearly an annual occurrence they were so uncommon.

"Unless you're out of my chambers in the next ten seconds, the offer is invalid," Arthur growled, and Merlin shot off for the door, flailing his gangly limbs as he ran.

At the last moment, Merlin turned and smiled at Arthur over his shoulder. "Thanks."

"Five, four, three-" Arthur said warningly, drawing himself to his feet. Merlin turned and ran on down the hallway, and only after he was gone did Arthur smile.

Then his attention was caught by his unmade bed and the lump of sheets next to them, and his shoulders slumped as if they bore the weight of the world.

"And what the bloody hell am I supposed to do with this?"

xxx

Free from his duties for a whole four days, Merlin's stress was repealed to be replaced by an overpowering sense of euphoria. He felt he had all the time in the world on his hands, and the problem of the girl finally stood a chance of being solved. Immediately after being freed from his duties, he ran to Gaius' chambers to report the wonderful news to the physician, who promptly set him to work running the errands which he had as of late abandoned. Though slightly aggravated at the idea of doing work a minute in to his week of freedom, Merlin was pleased with having to go in to the market, for it provided him the chance to get to look for the ever elusive girl.

However, that trip and the others following proved unfruitful. Merlin obsessively set out each and every day for the market place to wander along the streets and poke between the stalls, but to no avail. He saw hide nor hair of the girl.

It was dusk on the second to last day of his week off, and Merlin found himself wandering the forest in search of supplies for Gaius. Once again, frustration and bitterness were the dominant emotions coursing through him as he stomped noisily through the foliage. He wanted to know why it was so bloody difficult to simply glimpse the girl, to assure himself that she had indeed been real and he had not made her up. For that was what Gaius was beginning to suspect; that Merlin, having had quite the traumatic day with the appearance and murder of Fendrel, had imagined that he had seen a girl who could have possibly been the next Keeper of Magic. And what really got to Merlin was not the fact that Gaius doubted him, but that he was beginning to doubt himself.

All at once, he was drawn out of his angry musings by a long, drawn out scream from somewhere in the shadows. Merlin froze, his senses on high alert as he cast his anxious blue gaze around the forest. He listened hard and used his magic to extend a sixth sense, which could sense the presence of others, out beyond what his other senses could catch. Just as this sixth sense picked up on the presence of other people, another scream echoed back to him, this one more horrible than the first.

Merlin dropped the supplies he had been holding and took off in the direction he knew the people were gathered. From what he had heard and also from his magic, he knew that there were five people total in a clearing somewhere deeper into the forest, farther away from the citadel. Merlin felt dread thicken in his stomach as another scream, much louder now that he was closer to the source, issued from ahead.

Then he stumbled out into the open space of a thirty foot wide clearing, in the center of which stood five figures, four male and one female. The woman lay quaking with fear and bleeding heavily, while the men towered over her with whips in their hands. They all looked up at once, and as the woman looked up at Merlin he recognized her as a lady of Camelot, married to a very wealthy merchant. Her usually pretty face was bloodied, bruised, and full of terror as she looked upon him beseechingly.

"Please, help me!" she yelped, drawing the attention of her captors. One of the bigger ones turned back to her and cracked the whip across her body, drawing out another scream and causing more blood to flow.

"Shut the hell up, you!" he thundered, and at once Merlin felt an uncontrollable rage overcome him. Power flowed through his veins as a dull burning began in the base of his skull.

"I don't know what you all think you're doing, but you had better step away from the woman right now and get the hell away from her," he said lowly, and much to his despise the men laughed. One of them stepped forward, raising his hands as if in defeat.

"Come on now, lads, that's enough, the pipsqueak says it's time for our fun to be over!" he shouted, sneering at Merlin and earning more roaring laughter from his comrades. "Better run back home to your mummy, lad, surely she's wondering why her little baby is out so late, eh?"

The man made to step toward Merlin, who felt a flame flash through him; he knew he would not be able to control his fury much longer. "Stay back," he hissed, earning more laughs from the man. The others had come to join their fellow, circling around Merlin as a pack of wolves does their prey.

"Or what," said the first man, "you'll bat your eyelashes at us? Come on now, lad, we aren't scared of you."

The others snickered, and a moment later Merlin felt a smile of his own creep on to his face. For from behind the back of the first man, he saw the form of the woman they were assaulting draw herself to her feet and take off running, crashing through the woods for Camelot. The men seemed to notice too, for the made to go after her but the first man, his face twisted in rage, held them back.

"No!" he barked. "Let her go. Dumb prude wasn't worth as much as she and her husband pretend to be, anyways. You, on the other hand," he hissed, drawing closer to Merlin. "You've just lost us a job. And no job means no pay.. which makes us very, very angry. You wanna know what I think, boy? I think you should have to pay for losing us our money. We should make sure you aren't around to screw up any more of our jobs."

"Don't touch me," Merlin spat, as the burning in his skull spread through his whole body. He despised looters-and anyone else who hurt innocent people for no apparent reason-with a passion, and now that he was being confronted by a group of them, he didn't know if he could keep himself from causing _them_ permanent harm.

The leader stepped forward and cracked his whip at Merlin, who in that instant lost his last thread of composure and snapped.

Merlin screamed an incantation he could not recall learning, and at once the men surrounding him were blown into oblivion. They were sent soaring backwards in a burst of light, and none of them ever hit the ground again. As the gold tint faded from his eyes, Merlin collapsed to his knees, his head pounding in rhythm with his frantic heart and his ears ringing. He felt weak and shaky all over, and knew that any second he would lose consciousness. He barely heard, through the ringing in his ears, the sound of many men crashing through the foliage, their voices raised in loud alarm which sounded distorted to his pounding brain. He looked up and found himself face to face with a group of knights of Camelot, all with swords drawn and looking furious. At the same time Merlin dropped face first to ground, the knights rushed him, dragging his dead weighted form to his feet and preparing to drag him back to the city. Though his body was numb and dead feeling, his mind was still working perfectly well, and he knew that they had seen the magic he had just performed. He was going to meet the same end as Fendrel.

As that thought lodged itself in his mind, his thoughts blurred together into a numb abyss, and he found that he was completely unintelligible. He allowed the knights to drag him through the clearing, making for Camelot and for his death, when suddenly many things happened at once. Firstly was an overpowering feeling of unease which enveloped his body in a sense of discomfort. The second was the appearance of a figure from the darkness before them with a soft hissing noise, and in an instant it threw its hand up into the face of the knight leading the troop. At once, they all froze in place and their eyes rolled into the backs of their heads, and moving slowly, as if in water, they dropped to the ground. Merlin felt himself begin to fall, also, when the figure directed its hand to him and he felt himself freeze in midair. Then a soft female voice uttered an ancient incantation, and the faces of the knights became slack and peaceful. Merlin looked upon the figure with wide eyes, but before he could speak sleep slammed upon him with the force of an oncoming bull.

_His question still echoed through his subconscious as visible images started to form: Who are you? In his mind's eye, he saw two different scenes taking place, and though normally he would have only been able to focus on one scene, he was watching them both with equal attention: _

_The first was of two young men at the head of armies, facing each other across a battle field. The armies charged; in a moment the two lay dead beside each other. Two young women stood sobbing over their forms, while in the background a man with a crown frowned down upon the scene. One of the from before, dark haired and lovely in her anger, stood burying one of the two men from earlier. The same young woman now stood before the old king, being charged for a grievous crime. She was sentenced to death by the king, who was her uncle, and was thrown in an airless chamber and left to die. The old king walked in upon the girl's dead body suspended from her own belt, for she had chosen to take her own life as opposed to have it taken from her and out of her own control. Next to her lay the king's own son, the girl's fiancé, dead from a stab wound. The king, despite his great pride, felt remorse for the unhinging of his family, which was brought about by his own great hubris._

_The second scene was of two small children, a boy and a girl, both dark haired with the exact same face, sitting on the lap of a merry faced man who was clearly their father. Seconds passed and the twins aged, each still a mirror reflection of the other, and the little family looked jolly and well. Then there was a flash of gold, and the girl was suddenly wondering through a forest by herself. More seconds passed, and the girl continued to age, her dark hair growing to hang to her waist and her grey eyes becoming all the more piercing. The scenes sped past, showing mere glimpses of foreign towns and castles and forests of the likes Merlin had never seen. Then she came across a cave, in a mountainous region which appeared to be in no region anywhere near Camelot, and upon entering there was a flash of the brightest golden light..._

The scene ended abruptly, and Merlin awoke with a gasp. He had recognized the first scene from the stories his mother used to tell him as a child; it was an ancient Greek tragedy. And though he had not recognized the second story shown to him, he did realize the connection present between that and the first. He clambered to his feet and found himself looking down into a set of pale grey eyes, which were examining him with the same piercing quality as before.

There were a thousand things Merlin wanted to say, but he found that the silence seemed the only thing sufficient to follow the vision just shown to him. He very nearly felt he was dealing with an exceedingly rare wild animal, and should he so much as breathe wrong she would disappear as she had that first time they had met. She stared up at him for just a moment longer before looking back down to the knights, and with a nod and a flash of gold they were on their feet.

Merlin felt a flash of anxiety as they all looked at the two of them, but then he recognized how blank and slack their faces were. Then, the knights who had minutes before been about to drag him back to his death, turned and walked back to the citadel as if nothing had occurred.

The two sorcerers looked at each other one more time before following the knights through the forest. Merlin trailed slightly behind her, and she allowed him, and he was sure she knew this was only so that when they arrived at the city he would be able to see where it was she went. This surprised him; it was as if after all these weeks, after all the time he had spent looking and she had spent not being seen, she now wanted him to know about her. This both pleased and unnerved him.

As they passed through tree after endless tree, Merlin was overcome by his tiredness and also the uncomfortable feeling the girl gave him. He stared straight at her as they walked, afraid that if he looked away for just a second she would either disappear or attack.

At last, they came to the end of the forest and found themselves looking upon the citadel. The shadowy forms of the knights could be seen making their way up the inclining hill toward the massive castle, and Merlin did not feel worried about them saying anything. He knew that she had messed with their memories to protect him, a fellow sorcerer.

She shot him a look over her shoulder, and in that instant her eyes glowed gold. Terror gripped him for one second until he realized that his exhaustion was gone; she had healed him. He found his already established distrust for her prevented him from doing anything more than staring, however, and he continued to do this as she turned and made her way toward a tiny shack on the right of the road.

Merlin swallowed hard and felt himself blush as he saw her enter into the ramshackle excuse for a house. This end of Camelot was notorious for its rather shady inhabitants, and Merlin felt sympathy for her for having to live here. She seemed to sense his feelings of pity, for she turned in the doorframe and shot him a filthy glare, and he turned and shot down the street. He could still feel her discomforting aura around him as he reached the castle, and he took the stairs three at a time until he reached his and Gaius' chambers.

Merlin threw the door open and slammed it shut again behind him, breathing heavily. He heard the scraping of a chair against the floor and saw Gaius jumping from his workbench, where he had been reading a book by candlelight.

"Merlin, it's about time you got back! Do you have my things? Why do you look as if you've seen a ghost?" The old man demanded, hurrying over to where his ward leaned against the door. Merlin closed his eyes and waited while he caught his breath before answering Gaius.

"No, I don't have your things, but I have news. Gaius, I just met the girl. The Keeper."

Gaius gasped. "Did you learn anything?"

Merlin's mind was again flooded with the vision she had shown him, replaying with vivid detail. "Her name is Antigone."

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**Antigone= An-tig-oh-nee. Not Anti-gone.**

**Yay! That's my longest chapter I've ever written for any story ever! *dances***

**I hope you all enjoyed it, please review and lemme know what you guys thought :)**


	4. Chapter 3

*Chapter 3*

**Helloooo everyone! Happy(late) new years! :D**

**I figured I'd kick off the new decade(crazy, right?) with a new chapter. And I would like to thank each and every one of you all who read and reviewed the last chapter, you guys are awesome! I'm getting such good feedback for this story, I'm glad you all like it. :)**

**Yeah, I may have paraphrased Shakespeare somewhere in here... just possibly ;)**

**Anywho, here's the next chapter. This one goes out to all of you readers, and to the new year!**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

If Merlin had thought that his confrontation with Antigone would lead to an even longer period without contact from her, than he was sorely mistaken. Instead, the witch had completely changed her approach with him, and the two now seemed to be engaged in an endless game of cat-and-mouse. Unfortunately for Merlin, he was no longer sure which part he was leading.

He ran in to her multiple times in the week now, sometimes more than once within a day. More often than not, he wouldn't even be looking for her, but rather he would feel his scalp prickle and find that she was staring at him from across the crowd, only to disappear as someone taller passed between them. He was angered, unnerved, and the littlest bit intrigued by this new approach she was taking with him.

"I mean, she's making it pretty clear that she wants me to come after her or something," he fumed to Gaius on more than one occasion. "Why else would she constantly be there?"

"Perhaps she's watching you to make sure that you don't go running to the king," Gaius suggested. Much to Merlin's annoyance, he never seemed too surprised or concerned with the newest reports of Antigone's on-goings. "She did demonstrate a powerful bit of magic to you that night in the forest."

"Well I did the same, blasting those bandits the way I did," Merlin said back shortly, knotting his hands in his hair. "Which I'm guessing is why she showed me her magic in the first place." His mind replayed the latest and perhaps most infuriating of the incidents: He had been in the market, browsing the stalls for the new merchandise which had just come in with the traders when suddenly, the hair all over his arms and neck had stood straight on end. He felt the uncomfortable presence and looked up just in time to see Antigone's retreating form. For reasons unbeknownst to him, he had called out to her, and she turned back to him. For a moment he thought she would come and actually speak with him, but she merely shot him a crooked smile and a wink before turning and disappearing into the crowd. Merlin's face burned red with anger at the memory of the experience. "It's like she's playing with me."

Gaius merely shrugged, a mischievous smirk on his face. "Maybe she thinks you're cute."

Merlin's face burned red for an entirely different reason. "Gaius! This is serious!"

The old physician roared with laughter, his eyes twinkling. Despite his now completely red face and ears, Merlin laughed as well, though it sounded odd after so many days of stress. After a moment, Gaius quieted down. "Yes, yes I know Merlin. I apologize. Personally, I think it's marvelous that she didn't kill you that night in the forest, and is willingly showing herself to you. There probably is some sort of motive behind it, so you need to find out what it is."

"If you're so interested in her and her motives, why don't you get out there and follow her every day?" Merlin snapped back, feeling grumpy at the idea of having to watch Antigone even more closely than he already was. "Then you can see what it's like to constantly be watched by some random witch you don't even know."

Gaius stared up at him with a cocked eyebrow. Merlin shrank beneath the look, but was still uneasy. "She gives me the creeps, Gaius."

But Gaius merely shook his head and went to his bookshelf, signaling that the conversation was over.

xxx

_A young woman, crying over her dead brother's body._

THWACK.

_A middle aged man with his two twin children on each leg, the three laughing at some forgotten joke._

THUNK.

_A jagged mountain, a flash of the brightest gold..._

WA-BAM.

Merlin was jolted out of his reverie and sent toppling backwards with a shout, the huge wooden shield rolling out of his grasp. He hit the ground with a loud thud and heard snickers from all around as he was brought back to the present. Blinking the clouded glaze from his eyes, he found himself looking up at Arthur, whose face was beaded with sweat and whose sword was raised as if to take another swing at Merlin.

"That," he sneered down at him, loud enough for all to hear. "Couldn't have gone worse had I used a dummy. Well, an inanimate dummy, anyway. Honestly, Merlin, where are you today?"

The sun shone down into Merlin's eyes as he lay on his back in the cool grass of the training field. It was a beautiful day out, sunny yet with a light breeze, and Arthur had called the knights together for a training session. Unfortunately for Merlin, that meant that he would be needed to run errands, polish swords, tend wounds, et cetera. Normally, on a day like this he would have liked to do nothing more than watch the self-dubbed Knights of the Round Table train, but lately the whole Antigone deal had spoiled many activities for him.

"Merlin!" Arthur barked, giving him a slap across the head. Merlin realized he had zoned out again and hastily scrambled to his feet.

"What? Sorry, I'll do better next time," he supplied quickly, hearing the other knights still laughing.

Arthur sighed in a very irritated fashion. "Merlin, at the rate you're going, you'll forget to hold up the shield altogether, in which case I would stab you, which would put us all out of our misery."

"Oh, lay off, Arthur, I've seen much worse." called Gwaine, one of the knights, from behind them. Sarcastic, coarse, and a little sadistic to boot, Gwaine was one of the very few people Merlin knew who would so openly rebut Arthur in such a way. He had, therefore, earned very high marks in Merlin's books.

Arthur glanced at Gwaine and the others, then back to Merlin, who in turn shot him a charming smile. Merlin felt slightly ashamed for having once again done a less than satisfactory job in his duties to Arthur, all because of the Keepers of Magic. He found himself, not for the first time, wishing he could tell Arthur of his magical prowess.

Arthur merely shook his head before clapping Merlin on the shoulder. "You're a right git, you know that?" he said bluntly, but the smile he wore told Merlin he was attempting to be humorous. He raised his voice so that the knights could hear him as well. "Let's take a quick break, and when we come back we can work on our maces."

He shot Merlin a cruelly meaningful look, and his mind instantly went back to his very first day in Camelot, when he had called Arthur out on being a bully and had thus proceeded to fight him with a mace. Shuddering at the memory and rubbing the bruises which had long since faded, Merlin went to join the other knights.

Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival stood talking together, joking along together and laughing loudly. Sir Leon, the eldest and first of the knights to have met and pledged his loyalty to the royals of Camelot, went to join Arthur, and the two quickly engaged in a private conversation. Lancelot, the second of them to have become loyal to Arthur, stood a little of to the side, taking a swig from his water canteen and watching Merlin with steady brown eyes. Merlin approached him wearily, rubbing the back of his head where he had smacked it on the ground.

"Alright there, Merlin?" Lancelot asked, rubbing the water from his lips. Tall, dark haired and dark skinned to match, Lancelot was a handsome young man with looks to both oppose and match Arthurs. This was one of the many reasons the two had trouble tolerating one another, a rivalry Merlin was very much caught in the middle of. It was all the worse that Merlin liked Lancelot every bit as much as he liked Arthur; in many ways, he found Lancelot more tolerable. At least he was not a bossy, priggish prince.

"Fine, thanks, just hit the back of my head and got humiliated, is all." replied Merlin, shaking his head. Lancelot looked at him keenly, taking another drink of water.

"Well, I witnessed that. Anything else bothering you? You don't seem yourself today."

"Don't I?" Merlin asked, squirming slightly. Lancelot was looking at him in a very calculating manner, and Merlin knew that he was good with reading emotions. The two were like brothers, and Lancelot would not only be able to tell that something was indeed bothering him, but also just how severe the problem was.

Unlike Arthur, who would have mercilessly prodded the matter, Lancelot just shrugged it away, seeing that Merlin was not in the mood to talk. "You seem distracted, is all."

Merlin let out a small sigh, feeling both relieved that Lancelot was not going to press the matter and at the same time assured that no harm could come from at least confiding a little in him. As he turned to look Lancelot full in the face, in the process turning his back from the village, he felt an electric shock go through his spine, jolting the hairs on his neck to stand on end. Dread poured over him and settled heavily in his stomach, and his heart rated galloped to high speed as he whipped around to try and find the source of his discomfort. But no matter where he looked, he met no cold grey eyes and saw no flash of brown hair or material. But his beyond frayed nerves told him that it had not been an illusion, that Antigone had been there, somewhere.

"Merlin, are you alright?" Lancelot asked, now looking at his friend with worry.

Merlin looked back up at him and knew that he must look insane. And at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to confess everything to Lancelot, to tell him all about Fendrel and the Keepers and Antigone. He already knew he could trust him with those kinds of secrets, seeing as Lancelot was a knight of Arthur's own private circle and he both knew of and protected Merlin's own secret. But Merlin felt in his gut that should he tell Lancelot of the secrets he knew, bad things would happen; to Lancelot or to himself, he was unsure.

"D'you ever get the feeling that someone's watching you?" was all Merlin said, and at that moment Arthur called the knights together to continue their training session.

xxxxxx

The knights trained well into the afternoon, but even after they had been dismissed, Merlin was not freed from his duties. Arthur was in need of a wardrobe upgrade(not that Merlin particularly thought he needed any new clothes for him to clean, but telling that to the prince had only served to doubling the list.) It was thus that Merlin found himself wandering the dusty streets of the market, the air cool as the sun began to sink and the usual flow of people as crowded as ever. He was exhausted from the battering he had received all day, serving as the dummy for the knights to wail on. Because of his preoccupation with the other things going on in his life, he had not been focused on defending himself properly, and now found that every part of his body ached with bruises. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into his cot and sleep the rest of the week away.

Merlin stumbled through the stalls, looking for all the items Arthur had requested. Though the list the prince had concocted was irritatingly long, it was somewhat of a relief that all Merlin had to do was purchase the items and not actually be the one to sew them in to wearable clothes. He felt the teeniest pang of pity for the seamstresses, that was quickly overridden by a much stronger sense of relief at his own good fortune.

He turned and headed further down the street to the stall where the leather worker resided, a future new belt for Arthur on his mind. However, as he broke through the bustling crowd to find himself in front of the stall, he found there was no sign of the owner. Something in the back of his mind told Merlin that something was amiss as he took in the site of the stall which had apparently been unoccupied for days; everyone in Camelot knew that he was a hardworking and devoted man who put nothing ahead of his craft. For all Merlin knew, the man had never missed a market day. And surely, if he were sick, Merlin and Gaius would have heard about it, being the court physicians?

Merlin stood staring at the stall for a few moments longer before his eyes ticked back to the little house that stood behind it; like most other merchants in Camelot, this particular man had his home, smithy, and stall all connected into one building. The thought occurred to Merlin that perhaps the man was gravely ill and was unable to call for help, thus no one had discovered him. Worse thoughts of what could be lying in there flitted through Merlin's mind, but seeing as he was clearly going to have to be the one to check it out he didn't allow himself to dwell on these thoughts.

Gathering up his courage, Merlin glanced around the street to make sure no one noticed him before darting to the side of the house, where the door was. He grabbed the door handle and shoved with all his might, which soon found him lying in a heap on the floor of the house, seeing as the door was actually unlocked. Feeling his face flush slightly, he sat up and turned to evaluate the situation at hand.

The house was decently sized for one at this end of the town. One roomed, as was the custom, there was a table placed next to a miniature cooking station on the wall next to Merlin, a wardrobe, some cabinets, a screened off area, and a window facing the market. Other than that, the entire rest of the house appeared to be devoted to leather; leather in all phases of creation hung on the walls, sat in piles on the floor, even lay sprawled across the dining table. The back of the room had a large stone oven with various tools and yet more straps of leather.

Though the house smelled overwhelmingly of leather -as was to be expected from a house in which resided a leathersmith- the longer Merlin sat there, the more he was able to pick up on another scent. Being apprenticed to a physician, he was generally knowledgeable on herbs and plants, and thus knew that what he was smelling was one of the two. However, the smell was something he had never encountered before; it was pleasant, yet left the base of his skull tingling uncomfortably nonetheless.

Quite suddenly, there came a loud sound like the snorting of a boar from somewhere in the room. Merlin launched into the air and made a mad dash to hide behind the table, grabbing one of the straps of leather in self defense. He cowered behind the table, breathing loudly, when after a few moments the sound came again. This time, Merlin was able to recognize that it was coming from behind one of the screens on the adjacent wall, and slowly he crept from his hiding spot to check out the source of the noise. With the strap of leather raised as though to strike, Merlin peeped around the screen...

...Only to find the sleeping, snoring form of the leathersmith, sprawled innocently on his bed. Merlin's shoulders slumped and he dropped his makeshift weapon to the ground, letting out a hoarse chuckle of relief and embarrassment.

"Sleeping on the job, eh?" he said jokingly, although why he said anything at all he was unsure; it wasn't as if the man would respond. "If only I could have it so easy."

"I could arrange that."

If Merlin had overreacted to the snoring, it was nothing compared to how he reacted then. He let out a loud, girlish yelp and cracked the leather strap sporadically as if it were a whip, clutching the wall as if it were his only chance of survival. Turning toward the door, he found himself for the second time in his life face-to-face with Antigone. She looked furious, and both her eyes and hands were glowing gold.

"Did your mother not tell you that when you stick your nose in other people's business, you're susceptible to getting it taken off?" she closed the distance between them in a few steps, and in an instant had his nose clasped between her two glowing fingers. Pain split his entire head, and Merlin had to fight to stay standing and to keep from crying out. He felt fury bubble inside him, and knew that his own powers were in danger of being unleashed.

"And did your mother not tell you that it's dangerous to flaunt your powers like a title?" he retorted, trying to control his rage. Though his vision was blotched with red, he was just barely able to see the gold dimming from her eyes. After a moment, the pain cleared and his head stopped spinning, though she kept his nose in a tight grip. He was now able to completely make out her face, which though now slightly relaxed was still angry.

"The things my mother told me are of no concern to you, Merlin." she spat, giving his nose a hard squeeze before releasing it.

Merlin brought his hand up to caress his aching nose, when the blood suddenly rushed from his face and he was left staring down at her in shock. "You know my name?"

Antigone flipped her long hair haughtily over her shoulder, giving him a cold glare. "I know many things."

Merlin felt a small tweak of annoyance at her mystique that was quickly replaced by the all too familiar feeling of discomfort. "But how?"

She offered no response, merely cocked a brow at him. Merlin felt dread wash over him as his gaze cut over to the sleeping leathersmith and the words of Fendrel, Gaius, and the dragon all replayed themselves in his mind: Had she already broken in to his dreams, had access to his mind?

Antigone followed his gaze to the sleeping man and seemed to register the suspicion playing out on Merlin's face. She rolled her eyes in an extremely patronizing manner, and when she spoke it was as if explaining an elementary concept to a child.

"I overheard His Royal Highness yelling it at the training session today."

Merlin's feelings of fright were quickly replaced by annoyance and the same discomfort he had felt at the training field. "I knew you were there. I felt it."

"Did you, now?" Antigone asked in the same patronizing tone. "You mean like I've known you've been watching me this entire time?"

"You knew? This whole time?" Merlin asked, already knowing her answer. He could feel anger building inside him again, for all the weeks of playing cat-and-mouse she had put him through when she had known the entire time that he was looking for her.

"I know many things." she shrugged, leaning against the dining table and picking absentmindedly at her hair. Merlin watched her with the same annoyance he often felt toward Arthur, and decided that the two had the same infuriating sashaying walk.

"Alright, so if you know so many things, then tell me why in the name of all that's good and decent you kept me chasing after you for so many weeks?" he hissed, trying to keep his temper under control and for the most part failing miserably.

Antigone shot him a coquettish half grin that he instantly wanted to wipe off her face. "I like to keep things interesting. What fun would it have been if I had just shown up and introduced myself to you the first day I got here? The answer is none at all."

Merlin was unsure whose head he wanted to bang against a wall more, hers or his. "So...you were playing with me. The whole time. Like I thought."

She pretended to look thoughtful for a moment before nodding vigorously. "Pretty much. Well, except for that one time in the forest with the knights-wait, where do you think you're going?"

For Merlin had started for the door, unsure how much longer he would be able to hold back from causing the arrogant, Arthur-esque witch bodily harm. Gaius be darned, he wanted nothing more to do with this girl, and he would no longer spend endless days being played with for her own amusement.

"Look, it's been...well, it's been hell, these past few weeks, to be perfectly honest. And I don't want anything more to do with you. I just want to go back to my normal life of being a manservant and apprentice physician, not some spy to some crazy sorceress-"

The door quite literally slammed shut in his face, and for the second time in a five minute period his nose was subject to injury at Antigone's hand. He turned back to find her glowering up at him, her eyes glowing a dangerous shade of gold and anger shaking her body.

"You do realize who I am, don't you?" she demanded in a voice that sounded as if it came from Merlin's own head. He found he was rooted to the spot, unable to tear his eyes away from her as the scene around him melted into darkness. Antigone's form was bathed in golden light as five superhuman forms rose into being, towering over her in a semicircle. "You do know that I was chosen by Fendrel, one of the Great Six who brought people like you into being? That I am now one of the Great Six myself?"

Though his body was utterly paralyzed, Merlin's mind was still under his own power, and he was thus able to realize that she had somehow taken hold of his mind- that this was not real, but merely an illusion she was casting. He felt a dull burning at the base of his skull and concentrated his magic around his mind, imagining that he was building a tall wall much like the one surrounding the citadel of Camelot.

Almost instantly, the vision began to fade, replaced by the dim figures of the leathersmith's house. Antigone's eyes flashed, though decidedly not with anger, and Merlin felt her push more forcefully against his defenses. He concentrated even harder on his mind, but could already feel himself breaking a sweat, whereas Antigone merely looked annoyed. She need only push slightly more insistently and his mind would again be hers.

Merlin was surprised when instead of forcing her way into his mind, she simply hovered there, allowing him to resist her. He grit his teeth and watched as she stepped closer to him, her form flickering between normal and golden, a look between curiosity and frustration on her face.

"You _do _know who I am, don't you?" she repeated, watching him struggle to keep her out of his mind.

"Why don't you tell me, considering you know so many bloody things?" Merlin grunted angrily, quoting her catchphrase from earlier. Antigone offered no response, merely watched him with the same annoyed intrigue.

"I, Merlin, am a Keeper of Magic," she said, and he rolled his eyes; it was as if she thought he had asked her. Which, on second thought, he had, but Merlin was in no mood to admit he was wrong. "The newest one, at that-and that makes me the strongest. Simple fact, I'm the strongest sorcerer alive. And yet, here you are, resisting my powers, the powers I was born to specialize in." She leaned in closer to him so that her grey eyes were piercing directly into his. "How are you resisting my powers?"

Merlin glared at her, wanting nothing more than to prove her wrong. "You may be the most powerful sorcerer alive, but you're lacking something that very well makes you the weakest. Control."

Antigone stared at him calculatingly for a few more moments. Then the darkness abruptly faded, and Merlin found himself crouching on the floor of the leathersmith's house, the sleeping man snoring obliviously away in the background. Antigone stood before him, her grey eyes distant as she looked at a spot somewhere above his head. After a couple of seconds, Merlin got to his feet, sparing her one last glance before turning and making for the door.

"Wait."

He paused with a foot over the threshold, not looking back but waiting to hear what she had to say. There was a brief silence, filled only with the loud snores, before she spoke again.

"What you did..what you saw. I didn't show you all of this just so you can storm out on me."

Merlin turned back to her and raised his brows, a wry smile pulling at his lips. "I honestly don't care."

Antigone rolled her eyes in an irritated fashion, but judging from her ramrod posture, Merlin could tell he was getting under her skin. "That's a lie. You're too involved now. You know that every second you're away from me, you'll spend wondering what I'm up to. You'll want to come back. Your normal, mundane life just won't be enough for you."

A large part of his mind knew that this was true, but Merlin knew too much about sorcerers and the tragedy they often brought with them to want to willingly jump on board. "That may be true, but I can't be involved in this. I'm sorry, but what you're doing just isn't normal."

"And neither is what you are."

It hit Merlin in the stomach like a blow to the stomach. It was the phrase that had plagued him all his life, that hated truth of what he was and why he could and would not ever fit in. He could feel the edges of his reality crumbling away around him as the statement was uttered for the first time here, in Camelot, the first place he felt he had ever truly belonged.

He expected Antigone to look snide, but found that her expression was anything but; he dared say it was almost soft. It made him feel both ashamed and angry at the same time. "At least I know how to control my powers and act normal."

"Oh, you mean like in the forest? Yeah, that was a right great display of self control." Antigone rolled her eyes.

"That was one time! And they provoked me!" Merlin snapped, clenching his fists in anger.

"I see, so yours is a conditional self control?"

"I was protecting that woman, I was doing good with my magic."

"As am I." Antigone hissed with a finality that even Merlin found he could not challenge. He opted to glaring indifferently down at her as she continued. "I'm working to protect the thousands of innocent sorcerers who Uther Pendragon would otherwise have burned at the stake."

Merlin was intrigued, though he would not show it so willingly. He snorted and shook his head. "Good luck, Uther's stubborn as a mule, and I highly doubt he's going to hear an argument for sorcerer's rights from a sorcerer.."

"You moron, _I'm_ not going to be the one telling him," Antigone snapped, glaring at him furiously. The glare quickly melted into a half smirk, and she glanced down at the sleeping leathersmith. "At least, not directly."

Merlin rolled his eyes, infuriated. "Will you drop the mysterious act and just tell me what's going on?"

Antigone shot him a dirty look before flouncing over to the leathersmith, fingering the gaudy blue necklace she wore. "You heard what Fendrel said before he died."

"About dreams?" Merlin asked, inwardly smacking himself for getting hooked on the conversation.

Antigone gave a noncommittal shrug. "Perhaps. You can never tell with sorcerers these days."

Merlin sighed in exasperation. "For the love of everything!" he shouted, and for the third time in that conversation turned to leave.

Antigone sniggered, and before Merlin knew it the door had slammed shut on him again. He whipped around, fuming, to find her offering him an arrogant smirk.

"Alright, calm down. Yes, it has to do with dreams. But a schemer never reveals their full intentions to anyone but an accomplice, am I right? And judging by your powers, you, Merlin, would make a very valuable accomplice indeed."

Merlin was both intrigued and revolted. On one hand, her plans fascinated him; he had never heard of magic involving people's dreams before, and as much as he might feign loyalty, he really did want to see Uther step down from the throne. On the other hand, her plans sounded dangerous, unusual, and thoughtless. And anyways, her presence both upset and aggravated him; joining her in her plots would mean having to spend a majority of his time with her, the mere thought of which drove him insane.

As much as he wanted to say no, Merlin found that the one simple word simply would not come out. He stared across the room at Antigone for a few moments before cutting his gaze back to the leathersmith, snoring away on his cot.

"Destiny is like the tide, Merlin. You can take it while it's high and ride it to great things, or you can say no and remain in the swallows for the rest of your life, forever wondering what adventures were waiting."

Merlin swallowed past the lump in his throat. What she said reminded him of the words of the Great Dragon from long before, when he had first arrived in Camelot. Could this be the great destiny the dragon had prophesied, the one he and Arthur were born to achieve together?

"Don't you want people to know who you really are? To be accepted?"

Merlin swallowed loudly again, chewing it over in his mind although he had already made his choice.

"Dreams, you said?"

Antigone smirked, her eyes twinkling as an unspoken moment of understanding passed between them. "Not just dreams. Ideas."

**xxxxxx**

**There you go, peeps! Hope you liked it! Now review! :) **


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**HELLOOOOOOOOOOOO EVERYONE! I am SO sorry for not updating in such an ungodly long time; school has been absolutely dreadful lately! But I'll spare you my sob story and get on with the update. :D**

**Enjoy!**

**Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"Merlin!"

Gaius pounded his fist down against his workbench, the resounding slam adding emphasis to his shout. The physician had been looking through his herb shelf in search of the ingredients for a new remedy, only to find his bottle of mugwort to be completely empty. Frustration bubbled through him as he recalled a request to Merlin a few days ago to restock his supply; due to his apprentice's forgetfulness, he would now be at least a day behind in his work. He could not understand why Merlin was suddenly slacking off so much, especially when he had directly requested him to refill the bottle.

Gaius had noticed the constant haze of distraction that hung around Merlin nowadays; rather, he had done his best to pretend he did not. He had allowed the boy to slack off in some of his more menial tasks, such as keeping his living space tidy or studying his herbs. However, when Merlin's scatterbrained antics led to the jeopardizing of his patients, Gaius lost his patience.

Hearing no response from Merlin, Gaius shuffled his way up the stairs to his ward's room, heaving an irritated sigh. Miffed, he decided that he had forfeited his right to privacy in the midst of his laziness, and stormed straight in without hesitation. Merlin lay in a heap on a bed surrounded by a sea of worn clothes and other unknown messes, blissfully unaware of the rising sun or the forgotten tasks he was blowing off. Feeling his frustration bubble over, Gaius picked up one of the spare neckerchiefs lying forgotten on the floor and threw it at Merlin's sleeping form, hitting him square in the head.

"Merlin!"

In a flash, the warlock was springing from his bed, his gangly limbs flailing as he cleared the last bit of sleepiness from his system. Fully awake but dazed, his gaze rapidly shot around the room for the source of the disturbance, zeroing in on his mentor's scowling figure in the doorway.

"Gaius, what's going on? What- wait, what time is it?"

"Nearly midday, and high time for lazy apprentices to get up and start at their chores. Honestly, Merlin, what are you still doing lying about?"

"I'm sorry, I really am, I'm just worn out from all the work I've been doing lately." Merlin supplied weakly, rubbing at his eyes.

Gaius scoffed. "'All this work you've been doing?' And what work is it you've been so terribly burdened with lately, might I ask? Certainly none of the things I've asked you to do, seeing as you have about a week's worth of chores you've yet to even touch." At the flabbergasted look on Merlin's face, Gaius only ranted further. "Just look at your room; it's like a pigsty in here! And don't get me started on the errands I've asked you to run!"

"What errands? I thought I'd gotten to everything you'd asked me to do; I mean, I made all the deliveries to the patients and everything-"

"Yes, but what about the supplies I asked you to fetch? I'm running low on many of my herbs I use for the regulars, Merlin. For instance, the mugwort? I asked you to get more of that days ago, and yet here I am with an empty bottle and no replacement in sight. This is unfortunate, considering I need it for an antidote for a rather distinguished patient of mine."

Had he not been so animated in his rant, Gaius would have noticed the subtle, guilty flash in Merlin's eyes at the mention of the mugwort. Being so caught up in his rant, however, he did not; and so Merlin was able to get the flash back under control before he did.

"Alright, Gaius, I'm really sorry. I'll take care of everything, alright?"

Gaius raised his brows, simultaneously surprised and pleased at the defeated tone in Merlin's voice. "Starting with the mugwort?"

The flash of guilt again went unnoticed as it made a second reappearance in the boy's eyes. "Starting with the mugwort."

Xxxxx

Merlin made his way down the ever crowded streets of the Camelot town square, a sense of impending lateness hurrying his step. He avoided eye contact with the many passersby he crossed as he departed the respectable end of town, entering the less crowded outskirts. Small, dingy houses were packed in tight clusters along either side of the narrow street, giving anyone who was unaccustomed to traveling there a sense of claustrophobia. Merlin, however, had become quite used to walking these narrow streets in the past week, and was thus unaffected. Trying to look as inconspicuous and in place as he possibly could, he made his way down to the very end of the street, his eyes locked on the tiny little shack that was dingy even for this part of town. He approached the shack and drummed out a pattern with his knuckles on the door, and waited.

After a few moments, Antigone answered the door, taking her sweet time as Merlin had learned she felt she was entitled to do. She gave him one of her usual scathing looks through those large grey eyes he was only slightly more used to, and stepped aside to let him in.

"Decided to catch up on our beauty sleep today, did we?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "It wouldn't have taken nearly so long if I didn't have to knock out that ridiculous code every time I wanted to enter. Honestly, why do you insist on making me do that?"

She shrugged, as if her inconveniencing Merlin was none of her concern. "Safety protocol. I have to know it's you entering."

"Why though? It's not as if anyone else is going to come and visit you." Merlin grumbled. Antigone's eyes blazed indignantly, but she offered no immediate response as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and took a seat at the table. Merlin joined her, a cocky smile plastered across his face at his clever remark.

"I can't be that bad. You keep coming around to see me."

His expression dropped with a snort. "I'm hardly here to see _you_."

"Oh, really? Then what _are _you here for?"

Merlin was at a loss, for he did not know how to explain their situation. He was certain he was not there for Antigone, for her mere existence grated on his every nerve. However, he was incredibly drawn in by her ideas and plotting, like a moth to a flame. As much as she annoyed him, the time he spent working with Antigone intrigued him all the more with each visit, so that it became the best part of his routine.

He could, of course, never admit this to Antigone herself. Which was why he found he had no retort to be made.

Antigone rolled her eyes, taking Merlin's thoughtful lack of response as a consequence of his slow wit. "What _are_ you here for, Merlin? We haven't any work to do today."

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose as he recalled the events of that morning. "Gaius woke me up in a tizzy because he was out of mugwort. I have to go get him more, and I was wondering if you didn't need any, as well."

"I don't have anyone to work with today, so no."

"I know, but I was wondering if you didn't just want me to gather enough for you to have your own bottle here."

Antigone quirked her brow in an insolent manner which she had perfected. "You know I don't like having that stuff lying about. It's too incriminating, and besides, I can't stand the smell of it. It's like a donkey's underarm."

"I know, but…" he found himself hesitating. "Gaius was really cross when he found the empty bottle. And I feel bad constantly sneaking supplies from him. I don't know how much longer I can go about doing it before my conscience has me spilling everything."

The large grey eyes were narrowing into two dangerous slits. "Your conscience had better keep its mouth shut, Merlin. I won't have you ruining everything just because you're a goody two-shoes who's too delicate to get his hands dirty."

Merlin frowned. "Well maybe if you weren't too delicate to keep the things you need in your own home as opposed to making me steal them for you, I wouldn't be tempted to run my mouth!"

There was a thoughtful pause as Antigone chewed this over, Merlin's blood boiling all the while at her comment. After a while, she let out a long, begrudging sigh as if she were consenting to something rather unimportant. "Fine. If it will help your delicate constitution, I'll keep my own supply of mugwort in my house. Happy?"

Feeling relieved and much less irritated in lieu of her consent, Merlin shrugged. "Yes, I suppose I am."

Antigone nodded curtly. "Good. Now, if you're quite through complaining to me here, you should be heading out. Gaius won't wait all day."

"Right." Rolling his eyes, Merlin stood to leave, feeling relieved to be escaping the tiny shack. He made his way toward the door, but found his stomach churning with guilt and a sudden surge of companionship; he would be the first to admit that, although the same went for both ends, he had not exactly rolled out the welcome wagon to her. He certainly could be doing more in the way of friendship, although she was strange and arrogant and rude and reminded Merlin of the perfect female equivalent of Arthur Pendragon… but those thoughts only made him feel worse. Arthur was certainly just as bad as Antigone when they first met, but Merlin had given him an admittedly reluctant chance and the two were now thick as thieves; at least, to some respect. He knew he ought to do the same for her, and it was with these thoughts in his head that he checked at the threshold and turned back to see Antigone sitting where he had left her, gazing upon him with an expression of impassive scrutiny.

"Would you like to come with me?" he asked, his voice coming out embarrassingly uncertain.

For the briefest instant, her eyes flared, and Merlin found he was shrinking back; not because of a spell she was about to cast, but because of shock at the ferocity of the excitement sparking in the steely grey. But as quickly as it appeared, the look disappeared, only to be carefully masked behind the same impassive expression.

Her answer was equally uncertain, though marred by a forced sense of coldness, and she did not meet his eyes as she spoke, fingering the gaudy blue stone hanging around her neck. "I can hardly go traipsing about the forest in the middle of the day, Merlin; I have things to do."

Feeling deflated but glad of the effort on his part, Merlin shrugged and turned to leave. The door was swinging shut after him, but he was still able to catch Antigone's muttered, "Thank you, though."

Merlin found himself grinning at this first, strange moment of softness Antigone had shown. Whereas he had expected her to rudely refuse his offer- which, ultimately, she still had- she had at least shown some form of interest. Optimistically, he saw this as a sign of the cold, thick ice which stood between them finally starting to break.

The grin was wiped from his face, however, when he remembered what it was he was set out to do, and just how hard of an herb mugwort was to obtain. His shoulders slumped and he let out a noisy sigh, resigning himself to spending the rest of the day hunting for herbs.

xxxxx

Between the long walk to find the mugwort, the collecting of the mugwort, and the long walk back, the sun was just beginning to set by the time Merlin found himself back in the citadel. Sweaty and exhausted, he entered the lower end of the town, his arms full of vials of the foul smelling mugwort. He had been sure to gather enough to last both Gaius and Antigone for a while, which had proved to add much more time than necessary to his search. But the journey was fruitful, and there was relief in his heart as he returned.

Puffing from the walk, he made a detour into one of the tiny shacks lining the narrow street. He made sure no one was taking any particular interest in him as he knocked out the code to alert Antigone it was he who had come to visit.

Merlin waited, letting out an impatient sigh at how long she was taking. After a few moments, he beat out the code again, this time with more force in both frustration and the hopes that she simply had not heard him. But still he stood outside, waiting for her to answer, and after about two minutes he found himself sneaking to the window and peering in.

No candles were lit inside, leaving the areas where the setting sun did not reach in darkness. No noises came from within, and even from his viewpoint at the window he could tell that the air had not been stirred for at least two hours.

Merlin frowned. It was unlike Antigone to go out on her own; she mostly let Merlin do all the running around. So he left the shack, confused as to her absence but making a mental note to return later. He made his way further through the streets, where the crowd thickened with people still milling about the shops. HSeeking to catch his breath after the long haul to find the mugwort, he slowed to an idling pace to admire the wares in the shops. But he had barely passed two shops when he found himself stopping short. His breath caught in his throat, and he felt as though time and the world and the people around him had in that instant ceased to exist.

His wandering gaze had been caught by a new stall; particularly, the shopkeeper running it. Black hair hung in stringy waves around an oval face, wearing the signature expression of secret shame that he found so endearing.

It was impossible. It could not be…

He was sure it was just a trick of the light, or a girl who looked eerily like her from a distance. He stood for a few seconds, waiting for the illusion to vanish and his head to clear. But as the shopkeeper turned large, sad brown eyes upon him, he knew without a doubt that it was. That face would forever be painfully engrained in his memory. Even though he knew her to be dead, he was without a doubt staring at Freya. _His_ Freya.

A million different emotions bubbled inside his chest as they locked eyes. He was going to call out to her, shout her name, ask her what was going on, tell her all the things he had never got to, _anything_, but before he could she broke the gaze. Her hangdog expression lifted to be replaced with lopsided, almost arrogant smirk, and she dropped one eyelid into a slow wink. Then she turned away from him, back to the group of customers milling about her stall, and she did not look back to him.

Merlin stood rooted to the spot for a few moments more, waiting for Freya to give him some other form of acknowledgement, but it never came. Instead, her attention stayed rooted firmly on her customers, and after a while he found himself being bumped and pushed along by passersby who had no patience for him blocking the street, even despite his inner turmoil.

He returned to the castle, feeling ill and confused. She had certainly recognized him, but her reaction had been as unlike her as was possible. Why had she not taken the time to stop and talk to him? Or given him any further form of acknowledgement?

Perhaps it really was just his imagination. Or someone who looked eerily like Freya. After all, she was dead; he had been there, it was he who put her body to rest in the lake. The rational part of his mind, though confused, was insistent that this was all it was.

But still, said the even more confused emotional part of his mind, the look in her eyes before she had noticed him…

Merlin was moodily wrapped up in his own thoughts as he stalked to Gaius' room. The physician looked up in mild interest as Merlin kicked the door shut after him and turned to greet him.

"Merlin, you're back," he said, although that obvious fact really could have gone unstated. Before Merlin could reply, Gaius continued in a tone that was somehow both stern and casual. "It certainly took you long enough."

Merlin scowled, still upset by the episode on the streets and thus on edge. "I'm sorry, Gaius, but mugwort isn't exactly the easiest herb to find. I'd like to see you have to trek halfway through the kingdom and back and be punctual about it."

Gaius rolled his eyes. "Don't over exaggerate, Merlin, it makes you sound whiny. I've made that walk plenty of times and have returned with much more haste than you, even in my old age." Merlin was angry and annoyed and prepared to deliver a defensive remark, until he realized the old man was smirking. "Then again, I don't think I've ever set out to retrieve this big of a batch. Honestly, my boy, it looks like you've got enough to make due for an entire year."

Merlin's heart lurched. He had forgotten to hide the stocks he had intended for Antigone, and now Gaius thought they were for him. "These aren't for you." He blurted without thinking.

Gaius frowned. "Oh? Then whatever are they for?"

Merlin gulped under his mentor's suspicious gaze, quickly trying to think of something to say. Awful as he was at improvisation, he needed some sort of excuse. "No… well, not exactly. I mean, they are for you, but I thought… I thought that I might keep them for you."

Gaius' brow was gradually climbing up his forehead, and Merlin knew he had done a shoddy job. "Really now?"

Merlin nodded his head so hard it hurt. "Yeah, um… I figured at the rate you're using it, you'll be done with those bottles I got for you in no time. I figured I would keep the extras so that when you do get done with those, you'll have backups waiting for you that you didn't even know you had…so it'll be a surprise for you! And it'll save me the long walk…"

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He felt himself flush at the stupid explanation tumbling from his mouth, and judging by how high Gaius' brow had risen he could tell he wasn't buying any of it. But Merlin shook his embarrassment off and plastered a wide smile on his face, as if this was the most logical and obvious explanation in the world. Taking advantage of Gaius' silence, he slammed half of the mugwort down on the table before heading back out. He needed to clear his head as well as avoid any more bumbling explanations he might offer.

"Merlin? But where are you off to now?" Gaius called after him, now looking extremely confused. Merlin checked at the door but did not turn back, his face as red as ever.

"Ah, I think I can hear Arthur calling me… I'll see you later, Gaius!" And he took off like a flash, leaving Gaius in a haze of utter bewilderment.

Slipping the mugwort into his pocket, he made his way to Arthur's chambers. At the mention of the prince, he realized just how many chores he had left to do for him, and was hoping to slip in and get some done before he noticed. With thoughts of the Freya look alike still burning in the back of his mind, he slunk into Arthur's room, dread settling heavily on his stomach as he turned to face the mess he had to deal with.

The damage was worse than he had expected. The bed sheets lay strewn halfway onto the floor as Arthur had seen fit to leave them after waking up. Dirty clothes lay in heaps all throughout the room. Plates, bowls, cups, and other eating utensils were cluttering every imaginable surface in the room. There were large white clumps of wax gathered beneath the candles that Arthur had let burn down and then not properly put out. And there was a strange odor hanging in the air, the source of which Merlin was unable to pinpoint. The accumulation of a few days of neglect left the room looking the equivalent of the results of some sort of celebration. Merlin let out a nasally sigh and rolled his eyes.

"Oh, you've really outdone yourself this time, Arthur," he hissed to himself. "You can't even manage the bloody candles?"

Resigning himself to the fate which he had a part in bringing about, he set to work cleaning the mess. That is to say, with a few muttered incantations, the chores were magically doing themselves, while Merlin himself sought to locate the source of the mysterious rank odor; which turned out to be a combination of a pile of clothes Arthur had used for training(still slightly damp with sweat) and a tub of God-knows-how-old bathwater. With his nose plugged, he was just getting the rank clothes together to be washed when he heard footsteps outside the door.

Merlin muttered the spell to get his magical chores to stop doing themselves. The door was cracked open just as the gold faded from Merlin's eyes, only to be replaced with a look of surprise.

"Gwen? What're you doing here?"

Merlin could not tell if Gwen looked more surprised or guilty at the sight of him. She closed the door after him and stood, twiddling her thumbs together.

"Hi, Merlin," she muttered, blushing slightly and altogether avoiding his question. "I'm surprised to see you here; Arthur says you haven't been showing up for work lately."

Worry bubbled inside him as he wondered, not for the first time, exactly how much Gwen and Arthur told each other. He shook the feeling off and offered her a cheeky grin. "I've been busy, but I figured it was about time I showed up before Arthur drowns in his own filth. As you can clearly see, he can't seem to get by on his own."

Gwen chuckled for a moment, before turning a puzzled gaze to Merlin, who found himself squirming. "Busy with what, exactly?"

Trying to be casual, he shrugged it off. "Just, things. It's nothing too important, but it's time consuming."

Gwen took that as a hint that he was not in a mood to share. "I see," she said in a tone which said she really did not see at all, but let it pass. Merlin felt a great rush of affection for her for not butting in, instead opting to change the subject. "I was actually here to leave Arthur a letter- well, a reply, really, seeing as he's the one who sent the first letter to begin with. I didn't think anyone would be here." A dark blush crept to her face as she spoke.

His rush of affection was all at once replaced by a rush of worry. He was happy for Gwen and Arthur and their profound love for one another, but he could almost guarantee Arthur's father and the whole of the kingdom would not feel the same way. "Don't you think you two ought to be more careful?"

Gwen looked both embarrassed and defensive. "We are careful, Merlin. They're just letters; they're one of the few ways we can keep up with each other without anyone knowing or seeing us together."

Merlin sighed. "I know, Gwen, I understand. I'm just worried; what if someone else got a hold of those letters? Then what would happen?"

Gwen worried at her bottom lip, eyes suddenly clouded in anxiety. "We're careful though, Merlin. We hide them and everything. You do have a point though… I don't suppose I ever thought about that…" The last part was murmured quietly under her breath as she chewed away at her lip.

"Just be careful, alright?" Merlin said weakly, figuring it was safe to assume that nothing would stop them. They were doing no harm, and as long as they were careful, there would be no risk. Who was he to take that from them?

Gwen looked relieved for the most part, though worry still shone dully in her eyes. Neither of them spoke for a moment, and then Gwen's expression lifted as she changed the subject. "Have you been into town recently? Lancelot's got himself a shop set up."

Merlin's face broke out in a grin. "Really? I had no idea he had ambition to open a shop, but that's great! What does he sell?"

She was beaming happily. "Oh, just some elixirs. He learned a lot of healing methods while he was out away from Camelot."

Merlin was slightly puzzled. "He never mentioned he knew about healing to me."

Gwen shrugged, not seeing anything strange about that. "Must've slipped his mind or something. But really, you have to go see him and buy something from him. It'll be the busiest shop there is, loads of people are lining up to buy his elixirs." She turned and made for the door, but not before slipping some papers beneath the mattress on Arthur's bed. "I've got to go; I have things I need to get done. It was nice talking to you though, Merlin!"

Merlin shrugged and went back to his work, chewing over their conversation in his mind. Steadily, a frown made its way to his face, and the more he thought the deeper the frown became. He had noticed no new stalls in the market, apart from the one run by the Freya look alike. Surely, he would have noticed if Lancelot, one of his very good friends, had established a shop of his own and was out flogging his wares; especially if it were, as Gwen had said, the busiest shop there was. The shop with the largest crowd around it that he had noticed was, again, the one run by the Freya look alike.

Something was not adding up in his mind. But before he could give it any more thought, a guard came sprinting into Arthur's chambers, casting his frantic gaze about before acknowledging Merlin.

"Is the Prince Arthur in?" he asked, sounding slightly breathless.

Merlin shook his head. "I haven't seen him all day. Why, what is it?"

For a moment, the guard looked reluctant to tell Merlin. He apparently decided Merlin was trustworthy. "The king is having one of his fits."

Merlin set down the clothes he had been seeing to and took off down the hall for Gaius' room. The old man, as per usual, seemed to be one step ahead of him, for Merlin had barely rounded the corner when he found himself face to face with him. Merlin turned on the spot and followed after Gaius as he hobbled along as quickly as his old legs would carry him, barely even acknowledging his apprentice's appearance in light of Uther's fit. Merlin steeled himself for a long and awkward time spent trying to calm the king down as they entered his crowded chambers.

It took an even longer and more awkward amount of time than Merlin would have imagined calming Uther down this time, as nearly an hour later they were finally making their way from the now-quiet king's chambers. Gaius' forehead was beaded with sweat, while Merlin's head was swimming with thought as they made their way back to the physician's quarters. Only after Gaius had closed the door after himself did Merlin speak.

"It's getting worse, isn't it?"

Gaius offered no response, merely turned to his bookshelf and began shuffling the old, leather-bound books about in his search for Merlin could only guess which one. Merlin watched him impatiently and pressed on when it was quite clear that Gaius was not going to answer him.

"The king's fits. They've gotten longer and more… vivid lately. Your medicine isn't helping him as much as it used to."

Gaius finally offered a response, although he did not turn to face Merlin but continued to shuffle through his volumes. "Very observant, aren't we? But you're right, they have gotten worse lately. Which is why I'm looking for….aha!" He turned to Merlin victoriously with a thick looking book, the title of which had long since been worn away. "This ought to help. A volume of sleeping afflictions and their remedies."

Merlin found himself losing patience with Gaius, though why, he did not know. "You can't just keep putting him to sleep. It's getting worse for a reason, and putting him to sleep doesn't keep protect him from anything. If anything, it makes him worse, because the more time he spends sleeping, the more likely he is to have nightmares."

Gaius appeared not to be too interested in what Merlin had to say as he flipped through the book. "I know, Merlin. But between my current remedy and the new ones to be discovered amongst the pages of this novel, I should be able to manage him. Thank goodness I still have this old thing."

Merlin stared at Gaius for a moment before turning and storming out of the room. He wished the physician would listen to him more, and at least give him a straight answer. He had no idea why it was he was getting so frustrated at Gaius, and decided he needed some space. Besides, he still had to take Antigone her mugwort, which offered the perfect escape from the dreary atmosphere which always hung about the castle after one of Uther's fits.

Merlin made his way through the marketplace. The streets were practically emptied, as it was getting rather late. A few shopkeepers were just storing the last of their wares away for the night, and Merlin kept his eyes peeled for any sign of Lancelot and his stall. But again, the only new stall he came across in the entire market place was the one occupied by the eerie Freya look alike, which was now empty. His mind clouded by the same sinister sense of confusion as he had had before, Merlin made his way into the lower town, and for Antigone's shack.

He was glad to see the windows were lit with candlelight, realizing that must mean she was home. However, when he knocked out the secret code, there was once again no answer from within. Merlin felt frustrated; he knew she must be home for there to be candles, and was probably not answering just to get under his skin. Needless to say she was successful, and quickly losing his patience, Merlin magicked the door open and stormed in on his own accord.

He was instantly greeted by a strange odor hanging about in the air; not the same, pungent smell from Arthur's dirty clothes, but one more earthy and sour. Glancing around the room, he found Antigone's slumped form leaning on the side of her cot, and for a moment he was worried she had fainted. That is, until he saw that the bed was occupied by another person, a middle aged farmer whom Merlin had often seen in passing in the marketplace. Antigone had her hand wrapped around the man's wrist, where there emanated a soft golden glow. Merlin watched in fascination as Antigone's eyes fluttered rapidly, and her mouth seemed to be forming silent words in her sleep.

Merlin knew magic when he saw it. Despite the fact that Antigone had told him nothing but the smallest, most vague details of her grand plans, he could venture a guess that what he had stumbled upon had everything to do with them.

He did not know how long it was he just stood there staring down at the two prone forms in fascination before Antigone started to shift. Her eyes began fluttering even more strongly than before, and her body started to twitch like a dog dreaming about chasing a rabbit. Her silent muttering turned into actual talking, and she seemed to be panicking, muttering "no" repeatedly. Merlin could do nothing but watch helplessly as her twitching turned to thrashing, and her panic seemed to be rising. The man also began to twitch and thrash until finally, his mouth open in a silent cry, he gave a shuddering breath and became quite still.

Instantaneously, Antigone awoke with a last, violent jerk. She sat bolt upright and dazedly started around the room for a moment before whipping around and facing the man, her fingers flying to his neck to check for a pulse. She did not seem to even notice Merlin until he spoke, his voice cracking slightly. He could tell something had gone terribly wrong, as the man still lay unmoving.

"Antigone…?"

Her head whipped around to him and her eyes blazed in fury, although she made no move toward him. "Merlin, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I just came to deliver your mugwort, and this is what I walked in on… What's going on here? Is he alright?" He made to step forward and offer assistance, but the look Antigone sent him froze him in his tracks.

"I have it under control," she snarled, turning back to the man. But Merlin could see her tension in the way she held her shoulders as she began murmuring an enchantment softly under her breath, moving her glowing hand down to the man's heart. Merlin let her work for a few moments before his curiosity got the better of him.

"What were you doing?"

"Practicing." She paused in her incantation to reply curtly before picking the chant back up again. This did nothing to answer Merlin's question, and he watched her with a slight scowl.

"Something went wrong though, didn't it? This wasn't part of your plan?"

Antigone did not answer this time. She continued her chant for a minute or so more before she brought her hand away from the still-unmoving man's chest, her shoulders slumped in defeat. She sat there for a few moments before standing and facing Merlin, her eyes steely and her jaw set firm.

"He's dead."

Merlin felt his heart plummet to his stomach, and for a moment he could do nothing but gape at her.

"W-what? What the hell happened?" he spluttered, finally finding his voice.

"He's dead. Things did not go according to plan-"

"I'll say!"

"- and he died down there. We'll need to get rid of the body."

Merlin's was shocked at the almost businesslike way she spoke of this man's untimely death, which had somehow been caused by her.

"Antigone, a man just _died_ in your home and at the mercy of your schemes. How can you just treat that like it's not that big of a deal?"

Her eyes flashed angrily. "What the hell do you want me to do, throw a funeral service for him? I tried reviving him, but it didn't work. He's dead, nothing can change that, there's no use moping around about it. The longer we keep him here the more likely we are to get caught. Might as well accept it and move on."

The look in her eyes told Merlin that she was no longer just talking about the farmer, but he was too much in shock to press the matter. "Very well," he consented, and with a quiet sigh from Antigone they grabbed the body and set out, taking a hidden back door out of her house. She must, Merlin thought ruefully as they shuffled along the back ways to the forest so as to not be seen, be prepared for a situation like this. He could not tell what disgusted him more, the way the man had died or the cold, almost ruthless manner with which Antigone was handling the situation.

They made their way deep into the forest until they came across a tiny clearing where the ground was soft enough to bury the man. Using her magic, Antigone dug a hole in the ground, and the two laid the unfortunate farmer to rest. Only after they had him inconspicuously covered in dirt did Antigone speak.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," she whispered, and Merlin was surprised to hear how shaken she sounded. He felt a brief twinge of pity for her, but he found he had too many unanswered questions for the feeling to linger.

"You two were dreaming together, weren't you?" he demanded, to which Antigone gave a small nod. "What happened?"

"I was just trying to show him what it would feel like to be persecuted like one with magic, just as I've done with the others. But he did not want to think Uther was evil, he rejected it. No matter how hard I tried, he would not accept our ideas. And then I lost control of things…" she trailed off and seemed to steel herself all over again, for when she continued her voice was strong and once again cold. "I messed up. But it won't happen again."

Merlin stared down at her, a silent war of feelings and thoughts raging in his head. He knew what had happened was an accident, but it could not be denied that Antigone was one way or another responsible for this man's death. And Merlin was her accomplice.

"You didn't mention things could go wrong down there. Hell, you didn't even say how things were supposed to go down there. I thought you had this under control."

"I _do_," she snapped back, sounding irritable. "It was just one mistake."

"One mistake that cost a man his life!" Merlin thundered, finding that the more he thought about the whole thing and how little he knew, and more importantly that he had agreed to this, the angrier he got. "You never told me anything about what goes on down there."

Antigone met Merlin's blazing look with one of her own. "And risk chasing you off? I need you, Merlin. I was going to tell you about it after I was sure I had your complete loyalty to this plan. But things happen… Look, I've done this plenty of times before. This is the first time I lost control. I didn't mean for him to die down there, but people's minds are complicated."

Merlin chewed this over in silence, becoming even more horrified by the second. "So, you mean to tell me we can die from something that isn't even real?"

"Dreams are just as real as reality, Merlin," she snarled, her eyes blazing. After a moment, she sighed. "But yes. If you die in the dream, then you die in real life."

"So…we're murderers then. What we're doing can kill innocent people." It was a statement, one said with a feeling of dawning hopelessness on Merlin's part.

Antigone's expression dropped, and suddenly she was looking up at him with deep agony burning in her eyes. "I had no idea this was going to happen. I can usually control things better."

Merlin stared into her blazing eyes for a moment as he pieced together the rest of her plan, Freya and her shop, Gwen and her letters, and even the very recent death of the farmer far from his mind as if they had happened in a distant past. "And what happens when you go in with Uther and you find you can't control it as well as you thought?

His question was met by silence. After a moment, Merlin turned and headed back for town in disgust, leaving Antigone to stare down at the grave of her first victim.

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**Mugwort= an old sleeping drought used to induce sleep and dreams.**

**Reviews are appreciated!**


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